


Post-injection (English translation)

by atropossolanum



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Dubious Morality, Epic Friendship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Romance, Self-Harm, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-05-16 22:52:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 91,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14820455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atropossolanum/pseuds/atropossolanum
Summary: RE6 (spoilers). Losing an arm, the C-virus, how do you possibly recover from something so traumatic? Chris/Piers, Jake/Sherry and a badass friendship





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sorryformyenglish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorryformyenglish/gifts).
  * A translation of [Post-injection](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/386972) by sorryformyenglish. 



> **Hi everyone!**   
>  **I’m trying out a fic for RE6.**   
>  **At the end of Chris’ campaign, being the big baby that I am I cried for weeks! But I finally managed to move on and now to get back at Capcom I’m writing slashfics with their characters. Don’t mess with me :-) !**   
>    
>  _Translator’s note:_   
>  _This is a project that I’ve wanted to try for a pretty long time now, the original work in French was posted all the way back in 2013 on ff.net, and I only just recently felt the inspiration to ask the author if it would be possible to get their work translated into English, so here I am, five years later lol ! At the time I’m not sure I had even played the game yet, but I had watched some of the RE6 cutscenes and read a few fics from the RE universe, and the relationship between Chris and Piers really stood out to me. I think it’s because it’s one of the few relationships between males that gets any story development, whether you ship them or not, besides Chris and Wesker. But what struck me about sorryformyenglish’s story was their take on the dynamic between the two, a truly sordid affair at times that creates the central conflict of the entire story. Set in relief by an unexpected friendship with Jake and some typical RE shenanigans, their relationship was truly amazing to follow through the course of the fic. I hope that you enjoy this overall unique presentation of the events following RE6 as much as I did reading and translating it! And if you are versed in French, I definitely suggest you check out the original fic at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9260001/1/Post-injection !_

**Post-injection 1.**

**Piers:**

I wanted to smile. Truly.

As he banged on the glass that separated us, as he yelled things I could no longer hear, I would have loved to give him one last smile. A smile so radiant, so magical, to make him understand that I didn’t regret it. To tell him that everything would be fine, that he was a hero, that I loved him. That the world loved him. Anything to soften the blow, if even just a little, of the shock from watching me die.

But I couldn’t do it. I tried, but to no avail. I was too tired. I barely even managed to hold my focus enough to look him in the eyes. Not to mention the pain that was searing down all parts of my body. I was at least able to steel myself into holding a gaze that I hoped was impassive, but if I opened my mouth I was going to start wailing. And if my captain made it back to the surface with his last memory of me being the image of a soldier screaming out of fear in the face of certain death, he would never get over it.

Well, so much for smiling, then. In any case, a whole part of my face wasn’t mine anymore, I could feel it. All I could hope for then, was to not give the impression that I was in too much pain. That would be just as bad, and he wouldn’t be able to move on.

I watched him go as the capsule took him away, further and further, and it broke my heart to do that to him. But what choice did I have?

Haos shot up after him. I opened fire. I waited a bit, to see that everything was okay, and when the capsule that brought Chris to the surface disappeared from sight, I collapsed on the floor.

And now?

Jake Muller, Agent Birkin and Chris Redfield were safe. Mission accomplished. I was now all alone in this underwater facility infested with monsters. Fortunately, I had several things to keep me busy. Dying, first of all. No way around it. And destroy the facility, if possible. Kill any J’avos, along the way. But my absolute first priority, was to get rid of the mutant horror I had in place of an arm. I did not want to die with it on.

I dragged myself through what remained of the hallways. Water was coming in from all sides, and there were J’avos and corpses of J’avos everywhere. I found a machete. I blasted anything that moved that was around and then I sat down on the ground, against a wall.

I looked at my arms. What was left of my right was just a giant mess of organic material, full of blisters, enormous veins that weren’t human, blood-drenched organs, sacs of pus and slime, things that glistened and pulsated on their own, all mixed together in a mass that was little by little taking control of the rest of my body. What a nightmare.

My left arm trembled, my hand gripped tightly on the machete.

I hesitated for a second: Should I cut off the arm, or should I save myself the time and pointless suffering and simply go for the throat?

It’s not like I had even the slightest hope of getting out alive. At that point, I didn’t even have the desire.

In the end I aimed for my shoulder. Why? I had seen enough decapitated J’avos to know what would happen. Something horrendous like my arm would pop out from their necks and they would turn into some mutated form of the following: some type of bird, some type of dog, or some type of disgusting grasshopper-man.

I was not going to turn into a grasshopper-man. It wouldn’t change anything, cutting off my arm, but I didn’t want it on me. I wanted it as far away from me as possible, and when I tore it off, I would unload all the bullets in my anti-materiel rifle on it and blast it to smithereens. I wasn’t scared. It wouldn’t even be the first time that day that I tore off that damn arm, and besides, it wasn’t even really my arm. It was just a mutation, it wasn’t mine. My real right arm was 1000 feet away under a heap of metal.

Hence, the virus. When I had found my arm wedged underneath it all, I was so fixed on saving Chris that I didn’t even think for a second before pulling. Before wrenching myself free, to extract myself. Not much came out of that, but I was then able to crawl toward the syringe containing the C-virus and inject myself. A mutant arm that shoots lightning to make up for the one that I had lost, still stuck somewhere under all that metal. And thanks to that, I saved Chris. That’s all that mattered. But now that he was flying away towards the surface in the escape pod, now that I was alone and the only human being for miles around, I would admit it: the thing was horrifying.

I clenched my teeth and I planted the machete in my shoulder. It wasn’t easy, even though I’m left-handed. One blow wasn’t enough. With a groan, I withdrew the machete to strike a second time.

The arm reacted. It began to move on its own, giving off small jolts of electricity. It hurt, much worse than the blow from the machete. I got ready to strike again. I aimed for the gash that I had just created, and then…

I screamed out in pain.

The spot where the blade had ended up, in the wide cut that I hoped went all the way to the bone, began to stir.

I cannot describe the terror that I felt. At first I thought that the wound was closing itself, but it was worse than that. A blood-stained bulb emerged out of it, like an embryo of a second mutant arm that grew bigger, and bigger, and fused with the first.

I went into a complete panic. I turned my head and kept it out of the way as much as I could, and then I proceeded to slash at my arm and my shoulder with the machete at random. I didn’t even register the pain I was so scared. Altogether it was unbearable. I ended up passing out.

* * *

**Jake:**

Elevators, doors, elevators again, unkillable monsters, bodies sliced in four that were still moving, explosions, walkways built on top of lava, it was enough to drive someone insane. I couldn’t take it anymore, we had to get out of this facility.

According to a map that we had found, there was supposed to be an escape pod in the corner. No doubt those BSAA guys had passed through here because there were bodies everywhere. Every step was trudging through corpses.

“Jake!” Sherry called.

I came to join her. She had stopped in front of what I had originally taken for a dead J’avo. But I quickly noticed two things: first, that he was still alive. His chest rose and fell slightly as he breathed painfully. Second, that he was wearing a BSAA uniform.

Shit.

“It’s the soldier that was with Chris,” said Sherry.

He was pretty hard to recognize with the C-virus covering his face, but it was him, alright. Definitely that same little puppy of the BSAA under all that infected skin.

I could never stand that guy, but even then, I felt bad seeing him in such a state. If he was there, it’s because he had come to save us.

“Damn, what a shit way to go.”

“He’s not dead, Jake. We have to do something!”

This girl, always wanting to save everyone. Fine, fine.

“Keep your gun on him. At the slightest sign of danger, you shoot.”

She nodded and complied. I approached the soldier.

“Hey.”

No response.

“Hey,” I repeated, giving him a light kick to rouse him.

Still nothing. He was unconscious. I shot Sherry a glance. She was still focused, arm at he ready. I got down, crouched beside the guy, shook him by the shoulder and I yelled:

“Soldier! At-ten-tion!”

He jolted awake as his eyes shot open. Well, his eye, I should say, the right one being busted. He straightened up slightly. He gazed from Sherry to me, looking completely disoriented. But not hostile. Not yet.

“Aaaarrrggh,” he groaned.

Sherry immediately rushed to his aid.

“Hey? Can you hear us?”

He swallowed back some liters of blood, or drool, or who knows what sort of gross thing that seemed to want to come back up before nodding.

“Where’s Chris?” asked Sherry.

It took him a great deal of effort just to speak.

“Left… in the escape pod.”

I laughed. Maybe not the best time, but I couldn’t help myself. Chris Redfield, savior of mankind, had abandoned his guard dog and had taken off.

He gave me a strange look for a moment, then seemed to come to his senses all at once.

“What the hell are you two still doing here?” he spit angrily as he tried to sit up.

“We’re looking for an escape pod to get out of here,” Sherry responded. “Don’t move, we’re going to help you. Jake! Your blood!”

I stood there, blinking. I was afraid of where she was going with this.

“What?”

But Sherry was already standing in front of me, with a barely clean syringe in her hands.

“Hey now, Supergirl, are you sure now’s the best time for some medical experiments?”

“We don’t have time! He’s going to end up transforming!”

“Yeah great, and then they’ll tell his mother that he died a hero…”

“Jake!”

Sherry had that look in her eyes that was angry and hopeful all at the same time. She was just so dauntless that I couldn’t disappoint her. I felt a bit like a loser compared to her.

“Okay fine, come on. But hurry.”

 The two of us sat down on the ground beside the soldier, who looked on silently as we prepared. Sherry drew some of my blood, and then injected it straight into his mutant arm. The thing had some sort of spasm and then shriveled up, it was horrible to watch. The guy had screamed like a little girl at first, but he quickly held it back and grit his teeth. Yeah, a real tough guy.

“One more time, just to be sure,” came Sherry as she planted the empty syringe in me once more.

“You don’t have AIDS at least, I hope?” I asked the soldier as I laughed.

The situation was really so absurd I couldn’t help but find it funny. But apparently he didn’t. He shot me a brief glance that asked if I was serious, and then proceeded to ignore me flat out. Pff. When I think about the fact that my fifty-million-dollar blood is going to this little shit for free… Man, it blows.

Sherry had given him another injection of my blood, but this time in his good arm. That seemed to hurt less for him.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Better…”

“Good.”

She gave him a smile that really got on my nerves.

“I’m not exactly sure how much you’ll need, the quantities and all that, it’s all new to me. So if you feel like you need more of the antibodies, or anything else, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”

Of course, and if the poor thing needs some, Jake, the free blood bank is here for that, right?

Slowly, and with great difficulty, he got up, his arm dragging on the floor. And speaking of, his shoulder was seriously messed up. It didn’t even look like part of a J’avo anymore, more like chili con carne. Barf.

“You need to get out of here right away,” he told us.

Not even barely recovered, and he’s already starting to boss people around, really?

“No need to thank us for saving your life,” I groused. “It was reaaally such a pleasure.”

“I’m serious. We thought you had gotten out a long time ago!”

“Yeah well we ran into some trouble.”

It was Ustanak that had kept us from getting out. Fortunately, that bastard had ended up drowning in molten lava. Good riddance.

“Don’t worry, c’mon. We have a map of the facility. There’s an escape pod just nearby.”

His face fell.

“The one that Chris took?”

Shit.

We all stayed silent for a good thirty seconds.

“Damn it!” I exploded, “You guys were supposed to get us out of here! Not take off with the last escape pod!”

“We thought you had already left!”

“Calm down!” interrupted Sherry. “There are other pods, on the other side of the facility. We can go there.”

“What? And go through all that again?”

The elevator? The walkways suspended over lava? No way. Half of it was already buried in any case.

I thought we had almost made it. We were just a foot away from getting out of there alive, against all odds, Sherry and I. Just a foot from finally seeing the light of day again.

But Captain Redfield had taken off in the last escape pod by himself.

I was absolutely pissed just thinking about it, and in some ways I was glad because if I hadn’t been, I think I would have completely lost hope instead.

“Come on, Jake.” came Sherry. “We don’t have a choice.”

We had almost no more ammo, nothing to eat. Let’s be honest: we didn’t stand a chance.

And suddenly came the groans of zombies. We all turned towards the door: there were two of them. The gray ones, that don’t die. The ones that reform when they’re cut in half, with the hands that run after you even when they’re detached from the body. The ones that take five clips of ammo apiece to take down. Hell, what perfect timing.

I prepared myself mentally to sacrifice my last few bullets on those things that regenerate infinitely just to slow them down, when suddenly…

Salvation. Divine intervention, I kid you not.

Out of nowhere, a sort of giant electric laser beam passed in front of me and annihilated the two zombies in one shot. Both of them. In one shot. Autonomous hands included, and I recall that those things were supposed to be unkillable.

Sherry and I turned around together to see Redfield’s lieutenant, supporting himself weakly on the wall once more, his arm still sparking from the discharge.

“What the hell was that?” I exclaimed, completely dumbfounded.

It took a moment for him to try and catch his breath, keeping his gaze fixed on us all the while.

“Let’s go,” he said simply, struggling to right himself. “We’re going to find another escape pod and you are getting out of here alive. I’ll go in front.”

I don’t believe it, what a prick. But still, I suddenly felt a lot better. As he passed, doubled-over, in front just as he said he would, I nudged him lightly.

“Okay, Terminator,” I said to him. “Get us out of here.”

* * *

**Chris:**

To see the sky again, to smell the fresh air, they were what I had dreamed of but now they did nothing for me. I was stricken with anger and with grief.

How could Piers have done such a thing? He knew well that I couldn’t stand to witness the deaths of any more of my men, that it already kept me up me at night. How could he do this to me? If he had only obeyed my orders, we could have both made it out, together. But he chose to sacrifice himself, the selfish boy. He chose to leave me on my own.

I wanted to turn around and start searching for him immediately. There was a chance that he was still alive, and it was my job as his captain to make sure he didn’t get left behind.

It took four of the men from the rescue team to overpower me. I struggled against them like a madman, insisting that they let me go, that they let me go back to look, but they injected me with a sedative and I was out cold.

I awoke eight hours later in a military hospital still in full midst of this nightmare that I had vaguely hoped was only a dream. Piers had indeed injected himself with the C-virus and had indeed pushed me into the escape pod to make me leave without him, and what’s more there was still no word from Jake and Sherry.

A failure on all counts, then. Jake Muller, the only one who possessed the antibodies capable of stopping the bioterrorist attack, was still in the underwater facility. The virus would spread throughout the world and there wasn’t a thing anyone could do about it, all because Captain Redfield had failed.

It was a feeling I was well familiar with. Survivor’s guilt, the shame of being the one to make it out alive, of having no choice but to carry on where others… couldn’t.

But before I could go too far down that grim road, a thought came to mind: They had denied my request to return to the underwater facility in search of Piers because he was just a lieutenant, his life wasn’t valuable to them. He wasn’t irreplaceable. Muller, on the other hand, was.

I contacted HQ asking for permission to go back to look for Muller. The fate of the world depended on it. If there was any chance that he was still alive, we had to take it. And who better suited for the job than I?

They agreed. They sent me a team of soldiers to support, a group of good men who all seemed to be proud to follow my orders. They were all risking their lives to die for me once more, I thought bitterly.

I shook my head, I had to believe in the best. I was going back to that hell and I was going to bring back Jake and Sherry once and for all. And this time I wouldn’t leave alone, not without Piers.

So hold on, soldier. I’m coming to find you.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **And there you go… I hope you guys like this first chapter!**   
>  **Don’t hesitate to give me your impressions, it’s only the second fanfic that I’ve written, I’m still just starting out!**   
> 
> 
> _Translator’s note:_   
>  _Wow, what a start. If this is how it feels simply translating a fic I can’t even imagine trying to write one and update it regularly. XD XD I promise I won’t be putting too many notes at the end of chapters, but I felt it was important to explain a little bit of the translation process for me. In general, I have my work cut out for me, as the author did such a great job with the story, and I have little to do except translate and try to keep the tone in line with each of the characters’ POV. However, in certain cases the word order makes it choppy or slightly awkward-sounding when directly translated, so I’ve had to try and be a little more creative with those instances, either rewording it or trying to add a bit of transition to make it sound more natural while preserving the original mood and overall sense. But as much as I try, this is my first attempt at translating a work of fiction after all, and so please bear with me if there are any stylistic concerns or odd phrases here and there! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, and if you have any notes for the original author, I’d be happy to pass those on as well!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Post-injection 2.**

**Jake:**

The BSAA soldier’s name was Piers Nivans. It’s funny, when you think about it, how we still hadn’t known his name after all the shit we went through together. Then again, it had never really been a good time to chat whenever we had had crossed paths, and even if it had been, his huffy pretty boy look hadn’t made me very inclined to try.

But things had changed. For one thing, the trek back through the base had been a walk in the park with him on our side. We still had to pull all the levers, charge all the batteries, and wait for that goddamn elevator, but this time without the enemies. Nivans obliterated them with his plasma cannon arm before they even had a chance to notice us. If we had we wanted to tell our life stories or share the latest gossip from People magazine, we would have had plenty of time.

And as for that look he always had on his face, it’s sad to say but there wasn’t much left of his face to even have a look. His left eye, a cheek and his mouth were something close to normal-looking, but the rest was, well… Have you seen those photos from the trenches during World War I? It was kinda like that, except on his face.

It made him seem a lot more likeable, if you ask me.

Okay, I’m joking, but really, it was hard to look at him. When we started out on the way back, he made it about a hundred feet and then boom, on the ground. We had to give him more injections of blood all the time; at this rate it would be me who needed more blood.

Every time he fired that electrified laser of his, he would lose his balance and eat dirt.

And every time we left him alone for just a bit while we went to pull some levers, he would hack away at his arm with a machete he had found somewhere. Well, it was practical; it made it easier to see where the virus was active. As soon as the wounds started to heal themselves, we would know exactly where to give him another injection. But a single cut would have been plenty, no need to butcher the whole arm. Especially since it was the best weapon we had.

Sherry and I, we didn’t dare say a word. We carried on like we saw nothing.

A long time ago, I went out with a girl who did those kinds of things. Her forearms and her thighs were full of scars. I beat it out of there real quick. I knew that she did it for a reason, that she was miserable, but I just can’t stand that. There’s nothing that terrifies me, disgusts me, makes me want to run the other way more than someone who needs me. The zombies, Ustanak, that giant, hideous monster that Redfield and Nivans had faced, I would rather take them on all at once than look someone in the eyes who calls me for help.

Nivans and Sherry, on the other hand, that’s their thing. Saving people, they love it. For the time being it’s me that they’ve decided to save. Well, my magic antibodies, at least. Except that our walking bazooka was only going three miles per hour.

I eventually got fed up. When I saw how much time it took him to go up a set of stairs, I followed up a step behind him, slung his good arm over my shoulder, grabbed him by the waist and hauled him with me so that he could go faster. Needless to say, he was none too pleased.

“Hands off, Muller. I can walk on my own.”

“Shut up.”

Yeah, I know, that’s not very nice, I’m a terrible person and all that.

But to my great surprise, it made Sherry laugh. And suddenly, Nivans didn’t dare complain.

So that’s how I supported him as we slogged back through the halls. When a zombie appeared, I stopped to let him aim. He fired, I kept him from losing his balance, and we moved on. He was my gun. He was my self-firing rocket launcher. And we made a damn good team.

* * *

During the lulls between enemies, Sherry made conversation. She tried to get Nivans talking, I suppose in order to keep his mind off of things like the pain, his arm, his certain death and all that.

She told him what happened after we had fought the Ogroman with them in Edonia six months ago: after the BSAA soldiers evacuated us in the helicopter, Ustanak found us again, crashed the helicopter, and then we were captured and imprisoned in a lab in China.

But it hadn’t been all that peachy for them either. According to Nivans, after that battle their mission went wrong. Everyone was dead and Captain Redfield lost it. During the six months that Sherry and I were locked up, Nivans was searching for his captain who was out getting drunk in all the seedy bars in eastern Europe. Hehe. Guess nobody’s perfect.

They went on to talk about the second time where they had helped us out, in China. We were trying to escape from Neo-Umbrella, and Redfield and Nivans took out a helicopter that was chasing us.

Man, they’ve saved our lives pretty damn often!

And then, Nivans told us this unexpected part of the story: back at that moment, when Neo-Umbrella was after us, they were supposed to have escorted us to safety, but Redfield lost it again and instead of completing his mission to save the civilians, which is to say Sherry and me, he chose to run after some lady, who was supposedly responsible for the deaths of his men.

The thing that surprised me wasn’t that Redfield dropped everything like that. No, the thing that I found really bizarre was that Nivans had followed him.

I mean… I’m not in the military, but I think that if I were and my captain deserted, I would take the chance to take a vacation instead of looking for him. And if he put my life in danger by abandoning the mission, I’d immediately denounce him to the higher-ups to take his position. It only makes sense, right?

But Nivans didn’t do any of that. He had followed him each time like a good little doggy.

And now, adding his answer to the first question Sherry had asked him: how he got infected. I thought that he had been bitten by a J’avo but nope. He injected the virus himself, to save his beloved captain. Brr.

So either he’s really, really stupid or he’s really, really attached to Redfield. Or both, because you’d have to be stupid to be attached to Redfield anyways. But in any case, it was sketch.

But oh well, it wasn’t any of my business. All I wanted was to make it out of there alive.

“We’re almost there,” said Sherry. “According to the map, the escape pods are at the end of this hallway.

“None too soon.”

I couldn’t take much more of having to schlep Nivans around.

We opened the last door. We cleaned it out and when there was nothing left moving in the room, we entered. The escape pod was right in front of us. We all let out a deep sigh of relief.

I re-adjusted Nivans as he was sliding from my shoulder as Sherry entered the code that to open the pod.

But instead of getting that goddamn door to open we heard the voice of some robo-bitch echo through the room:

“Insufficient battery to perform this operation. Please activate the backup battery.”

“Goddamn it, you gotta be kidding me!”

“Over there,” supplied Nivans, pointing to something with his six-foot-long arm. “There’s a lever.”

Sherry went to go pull it.

“Backup battery activated. Time until fully recharged: 12 hours.”

“WHAT?”

“In case of emergency, please use the self-contained pods situated on either side of the escape pod.”

I set Nivans down against a wall and went with Sherry to check these supposed self-contained pods. Bad news: first of all, there were only two. Second, one of the them was damaged. It had been taken out of its place and sparked on all sides, sure didn’t look promising.

And third, these emergency pods were only planned to hold one person.

Okay, God. I get it, you hate us, no need to rub it in.

We all met again in front of the last operational pod. Damn was it tiny. No way it could fit more than one person, no matter how hard you tried. Even if you sucked in your stomach. Even if Sherry pressed up real close against me and we took off all our clothes to make room. Hey, I was willing to give it a try! But it still wouldn’t work.

I thought of the Titanic. I finally understood why those two big idiots didn’t just both get on that goddamn plank: when it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. Not even when you’re that close to the end, how shitty.

“What do we do?” I laughed sarcastically. “Draw straws?”

Sherry and Nivans didn’t find it funny.

“Go,” Sherry put gravely.

“Wait I was just joking!”

They weren’t, though. So I asked the question that had me worried all of a sudden:

“Do we all agree that if someone should take this pod, it’s Sherry?”

“No,” she returned. “You have the antibodies that can save the world. You have to get out of here! Piers and I will take the next one when it’s done recharging.”

“What, in 12 hours?”

“Yes.”

She smiled.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. All we have to do is wait.”

“Out of the question.”

I crossed my arms. I was not going to leave all by myself. If someone deserved to make it out alive, it was Sherry, not me.

She must have read my thoughts because she continued:

“The world needs you, Jake. You have to go.”

“Let’s go Muller, get in.” added Nivans, selling me out. “You’ve caused enough trouble like this for the BSAA.”

Who did he think was, this jerk? Well I’ll show him!

“I’m not going alone,” I declared with contempt. “I’m not Redfield!”

And there you go, a little crack at him, free of charge. Great! And it worked: as soon as I mentioned Redfield, his guard dog went on the attack.

“I told you that he didn’t leave me behind intentionally! It was me who pushed him into the pod! And I don’t regret it at all. If I have to do it again, I will.”

I took out my gun and pointed it directly to his chest. He almost fell over, and it made me laugh:

“Let’s go, Fido. Push me and see.”

“Stop it, both of you,” interrupted Sherry.

She looked me right in the eyes.

“Jake,” she sighed. “Be reasonable. I know that you have no desire to leave me here, but it’s crucial that we get you safe as quickly as possible. The future of the world depends on it. And that doesn’t mean that Piers and I are going to die here. We just have to wait 12 hours. After all we’ve been through, that’s nothing!”

“So then we’ll all wait together then.”

“It’s not worth it. Get to safety, we’ll meet you there.”

She wouldn’t give in, that got me really worked up. And the worst part was that I knew she was right. Thanks to my bastard of a dad, thanks to my goddamn fifty-million-dollar blood, the life of a jerk like me was more valuable than the life of a good, intelligent and brave girl like her.

“I promise that I’ll make sure Sherry gets out of here,” said Nivans. “I swear. You’ve got nothing to fear.”

I looked at them both. Totally content with the idea of saving my life. They were similar, in some ways, and that annoyed the hell out of me. Good thing Nivans looked like he had been run over by a truck, otherwise I might have been a bit jealous leaving the two of them alone.

But I’d do it. Out of respect for Sherry. For everything she had done, for her convictions. And also a little for Nivans, so that he didn’t come looking me for nothing. So that he didn’t inject himself with that damn virus for nothing.

I took a deep breath. I felt a lump in my throat.

“Okay.”

Hell is it hard to save your own skin.

“But I trust you guys. So don’t you dare just dump me and die here once I’m gone, okay? I won’t ever forgive you if you pull a stunt like that.”

“It’s a promise, Jake.”

Sherry gave me a smile and it broke my heart.

I took Nivans’ arm and injected about a dozen doses of my blood in him. It would be no good if he transformed. It would also be no good if he kicked the bucket either, he needed to protect Sherry. I was going to be dead beat but it’s alright: I was saved.

“I’m counting on you, Nivans,” I told him. “I know you’re a good dog, you do a good job. So you’re gonna protect Sherry like she’s your dear old captain.”

He nodded.

“Jake, if you see Chris, on the surface, could you tell him that…”

“None of that. You can whisper your sweet nothings to him yourself when you come back with Sherry.”

He reddened. Man did his face look like shit. The “healthy” part of his face was deathly pale. His eye was red and he was sweating from fever. Was he really gonna make it 12 hours?

I shook him lightly to refocus him.

“Do you understand me, Nivans? Don’t be an idiot, come back to the surface. They’ll cure you.”

He nodded once more, a little surprised. Y’know, I actually liked the guy. He may very well be a pain in the ass, but his laser arm was totally badass. And I gotta admit, he had a shitload of courage. It was really unlucky, what happened to him.

I turned towards Sherry.

She put on her bravest smile, and there, honestly, I don’t say this often but I swear that I almost cried.

I know I don’t really look my age, with my scars and my height of 6’3”. Especially since I hadn’t exactly been dealt the nicest hand in life from the start. Nivans and Sherry both were over 25 years old, but you’d probably guess that they were ten years younger than me.

So I really am pretty young. I’m only 20, just a kid. According to the American law, I’m not even of age.  

And well despite all of the shit I’ve lived through, I never felt so young and lost as I did now, on the verge of leaving such a super girl in such an awful place. An amazing girl. And shit, I can say it at this point, alright! It’s sappy but that’s okay: the girl I love.

“Sherry…”

I, who had only ever thought of myself, who had never done anything for anyone before this, I would have gladly given her my place at that moment.

“Don’t worry, Jake. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah…”

I must not have looked very convinced. I didn’t even dare to look at her, I was too ashamed.

But all of a sudden, I didn’t even see it coming, just like that: she kissed me.

OH MY FUCKING GOD!

It lasted five, maybe six seconds. She then stepped back a little and whispered in my ear:

“I know you’re doing this for me. Thank you.”

She gently pushed me into the tiny capsule and buckled me in. I really didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Are you ready? I’m going to start the machine.”

I looked to the two of them, their faces exhausted and dirty, but their eyes shining brightly in spite of it, both proud to sacrifice themselves for me. Damn, the world’s unfair. I’m nothing compared to them, and yet it’s me who’s getting out.

“See you up there,” said Sherry.

Hold on a second, that’s could mean two things. Up there on the surface or up there in heaven? No wait, because…

The door clicked shut just in front of my nose and the mini pod began to shake. The second to last thing I saw, was Sherry’s smile.

And right after, Ustanak’s ugly mug as he broke down the door behind them.

* * *

**Chris:**

I was aboard a military vessel, positioned right over the underwater facility. I had already briefed my men, and now all we awaited was the go-ahead from HQ.

The radio post pinged in on my earpiece:

“Captain! We’ve detected a signal underwater. Something’s headed our way.”

Sure enough, a minute later a small metal capsule shot up to the surface of the water.

I immediately thought of Piers. I hopped on a speedboat and we approached the vessel.

“C’mon Piers,” I murmured as I hastened to open the capsule, my hands trembling. “Tell me it’s you. Tell me you’re okay.”

The pod opened, and I found myself face to face with…

“Wesker!”

“No, it’s Jake Muller,” came the redhead as he climbed out of the tiny capsule.

He casually hopped across to join us on the speedboat.

“Where is Agent Birkin?” I cried. “Where’s Piers?”

“Calm down, G.I. Joe. Give me a moment to breathe.”

He stretched out a bit and took in his surroundings. He didn’t seem to be happy at all to be back on the surface. Quite the opposite, his eyes were fixed in a somber gaze.

“Ah, feels good to be back,” he started coldly. “Blue skies, birds up above, and everyone’s favorite jarhead.”

Giving me a sidelong glance, he quickly added:

“I saw your mutt down there.”

I could feel my blood boil.

"Don't you insult him like that!”

“Yeah yeah, I know, he’s a hero and all that. If this were a movie, I would have cried. Listen, Redfield…”

He took a seat next to the motor and started it up, setting the boat on course. He let out a sigh and with it, seemed to sink forward until he sat hunched, looking totally worn out.

“…Sherry and your little soldier are still down there. So is Ustanak.”

“Ustanak? The monster that was killed in Edonia six months ago?”

“That’s the one. He wasn’t dead, actually. And that whole time he chased us, Sherry and me. He’s in the underwater facility. We thought we had killed him for good, but I saw him, just before being ejected. I… I didn’t mean to be the only one to get out of there. The battery wasn’t charged enough to make the escape pod work. It was going to be a good twelve hours from now. I wanted to wait with them but they told me to take the emergency pod, to… to save the world, you know? For the vaccine. But I didn’t think that Ustanak would find us again. Son of a bitch…”

He put his head in his hands.

I really don’t like this kid. I just don’t. There are some people you can’t stand and that’s just how it is. Wesker’s son is one of them. And in that moment I couldn’t find anything comforting to say to him. Part of me even wanted to tell him off again for abandoning Sherry and Piers down there, but I wasn’t exactly in a place to judge. So I stayed silent, simply processing the idea that Piers was alive, and that he was in danger.

“Things aren’t looking good for them,” Muller began again. “Your pup’s got a super bionic arm that shoots lightning, but he can barely even stand. We gave him my blood to stop the virus, I think it almost worked. Now they’ve gotta last 12 hours in the same room as Ustanak…”

We had made it back to the ship. Some of the soldiers threw us a ladder to reach the bridge.

“Alpha to HQ,” I reported using my earpiece. “Jake Muller is safe and sound.”

I turned to face my brand new team.

“Ready to make the descent? Agent Birkin and Lieutenant Nivans need backup.”

“What, you’re going to go look for them?” asked Jake, incredulous.

“Of course.”

“Hell! And here I thought you were just a huge asshole!”

“Shut it, Wesker.”

“What, that was a compliment!”

And with that, he had to be on his way. A few of the soldiers took him towards a helicopter to evacuate him. There wasn’t a moment to lose in starting development on that vaccine.

I checked my gear one last time, steeled myself to prepare to face off against Ustanak, and turned to ready my men-

“HQ to Alpha,” I suddenly heard in my earpiece. “Jake Muller is safe and sound, the rescue mission is aborted. I repeat: the rescue mission is aborted.”

* * *

**Piers:**

So it was true then, this thing still wasn’t dead. Even though in Edonia he was supposed to have been crushed by rubble.

I fired on him with my arm. Since he was already pretty close, he took the full force of the beam. That stunned him long enough for me to fire another two or three times, and he went down.

“He isn’t dead,” warned Sherry. “He’ll get up again.”

“How do we get rid of him?”

I let myself sink to the ground. Sherry sat down next to me, her back against the battery that had just started to recharge.

“There’s nothing we can do, I think. We tried everything, with Jake. We ran him through with an industrial mining drill, crushed him with a transmission tower, and even drowned him in lava. He just keeps coming back.”

“Well at least Muller made it out before he saw him get here.”

It was true, it took a weight off me knowing that Muller was safe. I had successfully completed my mission, at least.

Sherry kept her shotgun trained on Ustanak. And then we waited.

Twelve hours is a long time. Especially when you’ve got nothing to eat, nothing to drink, and you’re in an underwater facility that’s cracking on all sides, with zombies that appear from time to time and a giant corpse not even ten feet away that might wake up at any moment.

My arm was hurting something awful. Ever since they had injected Jake’s blood, the virus had stopped spreading, I could feel it. But every part of my body that had mutated had seemed to retract, and the process was extremely painful. My arm was most affected of course, but also the whole right half of my chest, my back, and my face. I imagine that it was still better than turning into a J’avo at least.

I was dying to cut it all off. To cut into the flesh, and tear it all off. But I couldn’t do that now. I still needed the arm to kill and re-kill Ustanak as many times as it took to keep him down for the next twelve hours. And besides, I couldn’t do that in front of Sherry. It’d be too gory.

Time passed, slowly. Every once in a while, Ustanak would start to move and I fired upon him. Threat neutralized. But that attracted more zombies. If they were J’avos, Sherry killed them. If they were those regenerating creatures that didn’t die, I killed them. We didn’t even have to get up.

Not even an hour had passed before we started dozing off. We tried to chat to keep ourselves awake, but it was even worse. It would go something like this:

“How long has it been since you got some sleep?”

“I dunno. You?”

“I dunno either.”

“And what was the last thing you ate?”

“Hmmm… a steak I think. No wait, I had a granola bar in the elevator.”

“Lucky.”

Put Ustanak down again.

“Hey… you didn’t fall asleep, did you?”

“No, not at all.”

I tried to think of Chris. What was he doing, up there? How did he feel about what I had done?

At one point Sherry got up to do some stretching exercises, to wake up a bit.

“How do you feel?” she asked, retaking her seat close by.

“I’ll manage.”

She stared at me briefly, unconvinced:

“Piers, I don’t want to stay here a second more than we have to, so let’s get things straight: when the battery’s done charging, you’re getting in that pod, do you hear me? No hesitating, no “I’m staying down here after all.” I don’t want to waste time convince you.

I smiled. She and Muller were really keen on making sure that I survive. But what kind of life could I hope for anymore?

“In return,” continued Sherry, “I’ll make you a promise: if you ever turn into a J’avo, I’ll shoot without hesitation. Deal?”

“Deal.”

She gave me a light slap on the knee.

“Great. Now we just have to find a way to stay awake. Twenty questions?”

“…”

We revisited every game that was played on school bus rides during our youth. I Spy, guess what song I’m humming, insult each other in alphabetical order until one of us can’t think of any…

I was surprised to find myself thinking that it was too bad that Muller wasn’t there, that could have been fun.

We spent a good three or four hours like that. We killed Ustanak another five times, and we amassed a nice little pile of dead zombies in front of us. The battery had already reached twenty-five percent.

But in the end, we both grew quiet. Just like that, right in the middle of a conversation like any other, and neither of us said another word. The exhaustion had caught up.

We stayed silent for more than an hour. Sherry rested her head on top of her arms and her arms on top of her knees. She watched, never taking her eyes off Ustanak.

Our shoulders touched. We had unconsciously stuck close to one another. Don’t make anything of it, we just needed the human contact, the comfort, to keep us from going crazy.

“Sherry?”

“Mmh?”

“You and Jake, are you guys together?”

She didn’t say anything at first and I thought she had gone back to the silence. But finally she responded:

“Not officially, but I have some things I’d like to say to him on the matter when we get out of here.”

She blushed.

“What about you, do you have anyone?”

“Uh…no, no one. Well, there’s Chris, but we’re not together.”

Oh no, what’s gotten into me? Why did I say that?

“You too? Are you going to have some things to tell him on the matter when we get out as well?”

“No.”

She burst out laughing, despite the fatigue. I felt like an idiot, and mildly annoyed. I looked down at my arm. What could I possibly say to Chris, if I made it out with this horror attached to my body?

“Hey,” said Sherry, leaning her head towards me. “You okay?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m okay.”

“Don’t worry. We’re gonna get make it out of here.”

She set down her gun and took my hand. She squeezed it tightly.

“When I was little,” she began with in a low voice, “Chris’ sister saved my life. Claire. Do you know her?”

I had already met Claire Redfield once or twice, when she came to visit Chris.

Sherry told me the story of what happened in Raccoon City. She had found herself totally alone in a city infested with zombies, at barely twelve years old, with no weapon, and with hellish dogs in pursuit.

It’s not surprising then how coolheaded she stayed even in the face of danger, now.

“Claire talked about Chris from time to time, when I was scared. The way she described him, I imagined some kind of superhero big brother, handsome, strong and kind all at the same time, who would one day come to save us all…”

She smiled before adding:

“And in the end, that’s what happened. You and Chris, you guys saved us I don’t even know how many times. And that’s in spite of Jake’s bad attitude!”

We both had a laugh at that. But we had to force ourselves through it.

“The whole reason I decided to fight against bioterrorism, it’s thanks to Claire. She’s the most relentless person I’ve ever met. She was ready to do anything to get Chris back, nothing could stop her. You remind me of her, in some ways. Chris must really be a great person, to have people who care about him so much.

I could have responded that it was my duty to protect captain Redfield, but I was too exhausted to be disingenuous.

“Yeah, he’s a good person.”

I suddenly found myself talking to Sherry about Chris once again, and more precisely my admiration for him. How he defended his men, how courageous he was… I must have seemed like a total fanboy, but I didn’t even notice. I was starting to pass out so I was just saying whatever came to my mind to delay the moment that I fell unconscious.

The battery had surpassed fifty percent a while ago, but Ustanak hadn’t moved for several hours.

That worried me. What if he was awake and just feigning unconsciousness to catch us by surprise? Sherry shot him a couple times from time to time to see if he would react.

At some point, I closed my eyes. I think Sherry must have as well. We were really lucky that nothing happened while we were out.

The last ten percent was the longest. Sherry couldn’t stay still, she paced about the room, did her stretches, and checked the capsule every five seconds.      

As for me, I lay across the floor, my arm still aimed at Ustanak just in case, though I wasn't sure I even had the energy to fire anymore.

But at long last I heard the computerized voice that announced that the battery was fully charged and the pod functional. Sherry was waiting in front of the door and opened it immediately. I tried to get up but it was impossible, shit. I barely even tried to move and my body convulsed. I began to throw up, my vision blurry, all sense of orientation lost.

“C’mon, Piers, we’re almost there!”

Sherry pulled me towards the escape pod. She dropped me inside and amidst the nausea and vertigo I felt the ground start to vibrate. Shortly after Sherry let out a cry of joy.

We were taking off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **To be continued!**   
>  **Okay, I know that there still hasn’t been any Nivanfield, but it’s coming, I promise! I’m just taking my time! Friendship is important as well…**   
>  **I hope that you guys are enjoying it! The next part will be up soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Post-injection 3.**

**Chris:**

I was beyond furious at HQ and at Jake Muller. If he hadn’t come up to the surface, I would have gone down to look for all three of them. But now that he was safe, I no longer had the authorization to save the other two. All that I was granted was permission to sit tight and hold for twelve hours before having to evacuate. Muller had said that was the time that Piers and Agent Birkin needed for the battery to recharge and be able to return safely.

Except… would they make it that long? Piers had been seriously hurt.

A signal appeared on the radar. Just as before, I embarked on the speedboat alone. If Piers came back, and he was infected, I didn’t want to run the risk of him getting shot on sight by one of my men.

The escape pod broke the surface of the water. It was the same kind that I had used, a large one, capable of fitting several people.

My heart racing, I approached the pod. I watched as it opened, revealing a figure that stood on the threshold, silhouetted against the light of the capsule behind it. Sherry Birkin. Even from the distance where I was standing I could make out the joy in her voice.

“Piers, look, it’s Chris! He’s here! This time we’re saved!”

She called to me, waving her hands wildly as she shouted that Piers was there with her. I pulled up alongside them and jumped inside the pod. Sherry greeted me with a radiant smile that shone through her exhaustion. I gave her a quick once over to check that she was okay, nothing broken, and I rushed over to my lieutenant.

“Piers!”

He was laying on the ground, trying in vain to get up. He had his good eye focused right on mine.

“Aaaaaargh Captain…”

He was in an even worse state than I remembered. What remained of his right arm was in shreds. I watched as he desperately attempted to sit up.

“Captain…”

Something burned in his eyes. Was it the fever? Or panic?

I knelt down beside him.

“It’s okay, Piers, everything’s okay. I’m here. I’m gonna take care of you.”

I took him in my arms, trying to keep him from hurting himself by trying to straighten up. Heck, in the state he was in, it wasn’t a big deal if he didn’t perform the regulatory salute. No need to panic over so little.

I held him close. For just a minute, I didn’t think about anything else. My soldier had made it out alive. He was infected, but not turned. He was weak, but breathing. He had saved my life, and he was back at my side.

Sherry hung back and sat down facing the other side of the pod, so as to not ruin the moment. And I honestly could have stayed like that for hours. But in the end Piers brought me back to reality.

“Captain…” he started, moaning in pain. “You have to… have to get it off me.”

I pulled away from my embrace to look at him. His right arm pulsated weakly.

“Don’t worry, Piers. I’ll take you to the hospital. The doctors will cure your arm.”

“It’s not my arm,” he replied, pushing me back with what little force he could manage.

“Piers…”

“Please, Captain… get it off me.”

“It’s not for me to decide.”

I couldn’t decently tear off his arm with a knife just like that in the middle of the ocean.

A glint of rage mixed with indignance appeared in his eye, and suddenly there was the Piers I knew.

“I don’t want to live with this, Captain. I didn’t return to the surface to live with it. It’s not my arm.”

Sherry came and took a seat by me.

“He hasn’t stopped thinking about anything else since we found him,” she told me. “Getting rid of that arm. He spent all the time he could hacking away at it. The C-virus makes it grow back, but since we started injecting him with Jake’s blood, it’s stopped regenerating, at least partially. If we hadn’t needed to use it as a weapon, he would have torn it off a long time ago.”

I shuddered. Poor kid. And to think that it was for me that he injected himself with this horrible virus, that now causes him such disgust.

“Please, Captain,” he repeated. “I can’t stay like this.”

I thought about what would happen to him once we came in contact with the others. If he wasn’t shot on sight by my own men, he would without a doubt be brought to a lab and turned into a guinea pig for their research. And that was if he didn’t manage to rip it off himself, and god knows that he’d be capable. When I was struggling against Haos’ grip back in the underwater facility, I saw how Piers had torn himself free from the hunk of metal that had him pinned against the wall. How he had tugged at his arm until it gave way. How it had trailed blood behind him after, as he dragged himself towards the syringe.

He was right. This mutated thing, it wasn’t his arm. It had never been. And it wouldn’t bring him anything but disgust, in his own eyes and the eyes of others.

“Okay. Okay, soldier, I’ll get it off of you. And then we’re getting you to a hospital.”

He nodded his head and said thanks.

I switched spots with Sherry. She held Piers against her and took his right hand. I grabbed my knife and gripped his mutated shoulder with full force. It was slimy, and I could feel it throb.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” Piers responded, gritting his teeth.

I did it as quickly as I could. Piers cried out a little, then he lost consciousness. The wound didn’t even bleed, it was just pus and mutated organic matter that came out. A giant yellow blister formed over it, but luckily, it didn’t grow any further. With a good kick, I sent the arm flying to the other end of the pod.

I wrapped my vest around Piers as a bandage. The mutation was still quite visible on his neck and on his face, but it was already more discreet.

I looked at him. He really looked frail, like that, missing an arm. That frightened me. What have I done?

“We gotta move,” came Sherry. “He needs to be taken to a hospital, fast.”

She was right. We boarded the speedboat. Sherry took the wheel, while I held Piers tight against me.

“Did you see Jake?” Sherry asked.

“Yeah. He’s okay. They’re bringing him back to the United States.”

“They’re going to be able to make the vaccine…”

“Yeah.”

I looked down at Piers. His head rested against my chest. He breathed faintly, his mouth half-open. His face was devastated.

“It’s gonna get better,” I murmured softly. “As soon as the vaccine is ready, you’ll be saved. As for the rest… a little bit of surgery and you won’t even be able to tell. We’ll get you a nice prosthetic arm, something sturdy, the best brand available. We’ll get you fixed, Piers, you’ll see. You can count on me. All that I needed was that you come back alive. I’ll take care of the rest.

We reached the military vessel. I gave the signal to weigh anchor.

“Alpha to HQ. Lieutenant Nivans and Agent Birkin are safe and sound. Returning to base.”

Before cutting the comm I added:

“Let Jake Muller know.”

**Jake:**

And here I am again, Jake Muler, in the good ol’ U.S. of A, warm and cozy in front of the TV with a jackpot of 50 million dollars to my name.

Now, I’m feeling good, but at the beginning I wasn’t doing so great. During the flight back from China, they offered me food and drink but I couldn’t touch any of it. I couldn’t get a wink of sleep either, even though I was dead tired. It was as if I was still there with Sherry and Nivans down in that hellhole, staying awake and starving with them.

Sherry… I couldn’t stop thinking about her. How were they going to make it, the two of them alone against Ustanak? Would Nivans’ turbo-arm be enough to take down a monster that, need I remind you, survived getting run through by a giant drill? And what if Nivans mutated and turned on Sherry? In such a confined space, she wouldn’t stand a chance.

And what if, on the other hand, everything was going well, and the two of them made use of the twelve hours’ wait to spend some quality time together? For those who need it spelled out, yes, I’m talking about sex. That’s the worst possible scenario I could imagine. An utter catastrophe.

Okay, maybe chances of that happening were pretty slim, given that mug of his. Sure, desperate times call for desperate measures and all that, but you’d need to be a whole lot more than desperate to want to bang Nivans with his face looking like a burned omelet.

And then Sherry had kissed me, after all. That hardly counts for nothing, y’know.

When the flight was over, I got off the plane and they drove me to the hospital. They told me some stuff, took some blood samples, and had me sign a bunch of paperwork, but I couldn’t keep the thoughts from spinning in my head. The kiss. Ustanak. Nivans chopping at his arm with a machete. Sherry. The battery. Ustanak picking up a chainsaw. Back to the kiss. Back to Sherry. Around and around and around they raced, making it impossible to think straight. All until a nurse came in and told me:

“Jake Muller? I’ve been asked to pass on a message to you on behalf of Captain Redfield. Lieutenant Nivans and Agent Birkin are safe and sound. They are currently being transported to this very hospital.”

And just like that, everything was back to normal. The world started turning again.

So there I was, at the hospital, in the United States. I had to stay there for the time being, the time it took for them to develop the vaccine. I had touched my 50 million dollars and I only now just realized –

I’d be seeing Sherry again soon.

I set about stuffing myself like a pig, ‘cause I was famished. Then I went right to bed. I imagined Sherry on the plane, drinking something hot while gazing out the window.

I appreciated that Redfield had kept me updated. I’d never thought he’d do anything nice for me, to be honest. It could have been Nivans who asked him to let me know, maybe. I wonder, how’d it turn out for them, anyway? In what state would Redfield have found his precious little puppy? Was he still human? Was he even in one piece? Oh whatever, I don’t care. All I want now is to sleep for an entire day.

And that’s more or less what I did. When I woke up, there wasn’t much to do so I turned on the TV and I waited. I waited for Sherry. Why else? Man, if only I had paid more attention during the flight. Then I’d know how long it would take, the time difference, and as a result approximately the time they’d land on American soil.

Then again, maybe I was waiting for nothing. After all, she never said she’d come see me right away. Surely she had family and friends who’d come first. For all I knew, she didn’t even really care. For all I knew, she had just kissed me on impulse, and it didn’t mean anything. Or worse, she only did it to convince me to go in the pod.

Because, well, how could she possibly fall in love with me? I doubt it was my looks that did it for her, a “ginger scarface” ain’t exactly popular with the ladies. Definitely wasn’t my winning personality either, and my tendency to attract trouble would probably send most people packing.

But seriously, I don’t get what a girl like Sherry could see in me. I only attract the losers and the druggies. And just as well, because it’s all I deserve in any case.

And yet…

“Jake!”

Totally out of breath, and barely even having entered the room, there she was, one hand still on the doorknob. She flashed me a king-sized smile. Too cute.

“Hey,” I began, feeling a bit stupid. “Supergirl! How’s it going?”

She came up to the bed and I took her in my arms, in a friendly way, of course.

“Shit, you scared me back there,” I murmured. Keep it cool, Jake. Keep it cool.

“We’re saved, Jake. Everyone’s safe and sound.”

She beamed and started to pull away. I held on, I didn’t want to let her go.

“Jake!” she scolded, laughing as she did so.

I loosened the hug enough to step back just enough, but not too far. She looked at me, and I looked at her, and we both stood there for a long while, just staring at each other. In my head there were little birdies and bunny rabbits frolicking about. Sheesh, what’s wrong with me, what did they inject me with in this hospital?

And then there was Sherry, clear as day, trying not to laugh. It really got on my nerves.

She must have sensed that my brain was going haywire – she leaned in close and rested her forehead gently against mine.

“Boom,” she whispered, a beautiful smile tracing her lips.

My mind instantly went blank. Boom. That’s the sound my heart made when… okay, I was about to say something really corny, better stop myself there.

Anyways, I’m not telling what happened after that. That’s personal.

 

_Two weeks later:_

**Chris:**

The trip back passed without incident. Once we got back to the vessel, Piers was put on morphine as soon as it was possible and strapped in with a medic right there on standby. From there we were rushed to the airport to depart for the U.S. I stayed at my lieutenant’s side for the course of the voyage. I don’t think I let go of his hand even once while he was under.

The military hospital and research center for the BSAA was the only hospital in the United States that specialized in treating victims of bioterrorism. It was there that they had taken Muller, and there where they were going to get the cure to Piers.

When we arrived, we were greeted by half a dozen researchers wearing gauze masks. They took Piers immediately to the operating room. We spent a while in the waiting room, until Sherry was cleared to see Jake Muller, two floors up. I stayed behind.

I wasn’t allowed to see Piers the first few days, but the researchers and doctors informed me regularly that things were going well; the antibodies supplied by Muller seemed to be functioning properly. Which was good news not only for Piers, but the whole world. Sherry, too, was glad to hear it as she checked in fairly often for updates.

And at last, Piers was able to be moved to a normal hospital room. The doctors had healed him as best as they could. He had been placed under a medically-induced coma and was scheduled to wake up this afternoon.

I had requested to be the only one present when he woke up. I was too full of emotion, I was scared how I might react. If I ever broke down in tears for some reason, I’d prefer for there not to be any witnesses. Sherry, understanding as ever, went upstairs to visit Muller, and assured me she’d be there if I needed anything.

Feeling as nervous as a teenager, I waited for my lieutenant to wake up. I sat down in a chair next to his bed, and I held his left hand in mine. It was completely cold. Almost as cold as his right hand, made of plastic.

They had installed an articulating prosthesis that replaced his entire arm up to the shoulder blade. Even after I had cut off the arm for him, the doctors had had no choice but to amputate a whole part of his shoulder after all; it had been too infected to try and salvage. But they did a good job. The virus had been made dormant for good, and the prosthesis was of high quality. They had been able to save his eye as well, even though I couldn’t see it underneath the bandages.

All the mutated parts of his face, his back, and his torso were still bandaged for the time being. Seeing him like that – skin normal, two normal-sized arms outlined under the covers, a face at ease and sleeping soundly under the influence of morphine – that truly made me happy. He looked like he did before. Like he hadn’t gone through something so completely horrible.

They had fixed him for me. The had picked up the pieces of my self-destructive soldier and glued him back together.

It was just an illusion, of course. One of his arms was made of plastic and the doctors had said that underneath all the bandages, the scars wouldn’t ever fade. But it was better than nothing. So much better. We had saved the essential: his life.

At the exact time the doctors had predicted, he opened his eyes. I had prepared a whole speech to welcome him back, to announce that he was saved, to express my deepest thanks, but as soon as he laid his eye on me, my voice choked up with emotion.

“Piers…”

He gave me a smile so soft, so pure, that right away I realized that he hadn’t totally woken up yet. I almost never saw him smile.

“Captain…”

He squeezed my hand. He was openly staring at me. He seemed to still be dreaming.

I was unable to say a word. He started to move slightly and his gaze shifted, trying to see what state his body was in. I let go of his hand to slowly help him sit up. He threw aside the cover that had hidden his right arm and suddenly I felt him seize in panic. Things were about to go to shit.

It was a reaction I hadn’t expected. He bolted straight up, ripping out an IV inserted at his wrist in the process. And then he yelled. He yelled like I had never heard him yell before, even in the direst of situations. A terrified, visceral sound that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget. It was so abrupt and violent that I didn’t know how to react immediately.

He barely managed to keep himself upright as he stood on the other side of the bed. He wavered. But there wasn’t even the slightest hesitation as he yanked sharply on the prosthesis and ripped it off right before my eyes.

After having done that, and still yelling all the while, he dug his fingernails into his shoulder at the junction between the flesh and the plastic and pulled with all his might. Except that part wasn’t just socketed, it was screwed in to the bone.

It’s when I saw the blood, and heard the pain start to register in his cries of panic that I reacted. All of that seemed to happen in an instant. I dove on top of him in the bed and I tried to restrain him.

“Piers, stop! Stop, for god’s sake, it’s just a prosthesis!”

I could guess from the look of sheer terror on his face what he had seen, barely having woken from his coma: the mutated arm from the C-virus that he had pleaded for me to cut off.

I held him tight against me, attempting to calm him. He struggled, his one remaining arm flailing while his whole body trembled violently.

A few nurses burst into the room and swiftly put him under. He slumped against me with no resistance.

“Okay,” breathed a psychologist who was passing through. “No prosthesis for this one.”

The nurses took him away on a gurney, leaving me alone in the room. I looked around, taking in the aftermath of the chaos from the last few minutes. The IV, dangling feebly from the bag where Piers had torn it out when he had sprung out of bed. Blood splattered across the white of the hospital bed, as well as the floor, from when he had clawed at the joint embedded in his flesh. The prosthetic arm, an expensive hunk of plastic that lay discarded against the wall, all but forgotten after Piers had ripped it from his body. And the yelling. Yelling that turned into screaming filled with panic, with terror, with horror. Yelling that continued to echo through my mind even after it had ceased within these walls.

My whole body trembled.

I understood one thing now: you could fix Nivans like you could fix anything. Nuts and bolts, a bit of tape, a bandage or two, some plastic, lots and lots of disinfectant, and you’re good to go. But in his head… how do you…? No, how would _I_ be able to fix that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.  
> Side note:  
> I know in the game, Jake gives up his 50 million dollars… but I still can’t buy that. Ok, it’s a nice gesture to show that he’s changed and all, but what a waste! Besides, he definitely earned it! At the end of Chris’ campaign, I cried for Piers like everyone else, but at the end of Jake’s campaign, I nearly cried for those 50 million dollars. Why did you do this to us, Capcom?  
> So for my troubles, in my fic Jake’s got a ton of dough and he’s got no problems spending it!  
> I hope you all liked this chapter, tell me what you think! Your reviews always bring me great pleasure, and I’d like to give you all a big thanks for reading, while I’m at it!  
> Next chapter will be coming soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Post-injection 4.**

**Jake:**

Big news. Sherry and I are together, it’s official. It’s already been two weeks, and as of now I’m still wondering how she could possibly want me. There must be a catch somewhere, it’s too good to be true.

But well, for now, things are good. I’m rich and I’m going out with the greatest girl on Earth; I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.

Back at the hospital, there wasn’t much to do. The facility was almost entirely empty, no doubt because it was reserved for military personnel and located in the middle of nowhere. I still wasn’t allowed to go out until they told me otherwise, which meant for at least another six months, according to some of the scientists working here. That’s not all that long, considering how much they’re paying me, but god was it a pain in the ass. Currently, I wasn’t even allowed to get up; they had injected me with some product that was part of their ongoing research project on the virus, and if I moved too much I would risk invalidating the results. It was like that a lot, and it drove me crazy to have to stay seated for 24 hours, especially when Sherry was visiting. Like now, for instance. So what else could we do? We sat and watched TV.

I dipped into my fifty million to get a giant plasma-screen TV in my room, complete with stereo speakers, satellite radio and every channel I could possibly want and more. It was a worthwhile investment, since visiting hours weren’t long at all. Sherry would come visit as soon as she could, but the rest of the time I was bored off my ass, so the TV became my best friend. When it wasn’t visiting hours I spent god knows how many hours watching this or that, binge watching the latest serial drama on HBO, sitting through a clichéd sitcom for a laugh or two, switching to some bizarre reality tv series for a moment and then wondering where the last three hours had gone. Who would have thought that watching people hoard their lives away would be so morbidly fascinating?

Now, it was visiting hours again and Sherry was snuggled up against me, the two of us watching a contrived reality TV show while laughing at the participants as we cuddled. Yeah yeah, like a normal couple and all that, kinda dumb. I couldn’t believe it, it felt completely surreal. No more zombies, no more Ustanak, no more running for our lives. Just Sherry, in my arms, her weight shaking gently against mine as she giggled at some idiot boohooing to the camera. But never mind the girl on the TV, still sobbing how her heart had been torn to pieces after she thought she was The One for him, and not the other 24 women thinking the same thing. This was bliss, the two of us together here.

But of course, it couldn’t last, knowing my luck. Shit was gonna hit the fan sooner or later. So I was barely surprised when we heard cries that sounded like an animal being led to the slaughter, which certainly did not come from the TV. Sherry sat up, extricating herself from the cuddle.

“Who’s making that awful sound?” I asked.

I was the only patient on my floor, so for us to hear it, the poor guy must have been yelling pretty damn loud. And suddenly it dawned on me:

“That’s not Nivans…?”

Sherry was already up.

“He was supposed to come out of the coma today,” she said in response. “I’m going to see what’s going on, I’ll be back.”

And then she left me, all alone in my bed. I hoped Nivans hadn’t turned into a monster, because that would mean the vaccine didn’t work and I’d never get out of here. I listened. There was all sorts of yelling, now, it wasn’t just Nivans. I couldn’t make much out of anything, but it sounded like chaos down there, people barking orders, heavy footsteps carting equipment in the halls below, and god, that unearthly howling –

Then suddenly, nothing. Fifteen minutes later, Sherry was back.

She explained that Nivans had totally lost it when he had seen the prosthetic arm. He must have thought it was the mutant arm, and he had ripped it off right in front of a stunned Redfield.

Seriously, what’s with this guy and ripping off his arm? That’s at least the third time now, right?

Redfield was in a terrible state, it seemed, and Nivans was put under again for the next twelve hours. Time to let the wound heal, and to come up with some sort of solution.

“A solution for what? If he doesn’t want a prosthesis, he doesn’t want it, end of story. It would’ve been nice to ask him if he wanted it to begin with.”

“Yeah,” Sherry replied, “That’s what they’re going to do. It was a big mistake not to expect that, the doctors underestimated the mental shock connected to the virus. But what’s got Chris worried now is Piers’ reaction. He had just barely woken up out of a coma, and he tore off his own arm right in front of Chris’ eyes. A fake one, but still… Chris and the doctors are afraid that he’s developed a tendency towards self-harm. That he’ll hurt himself, or even try to end it all when he sees the rest of the aftereffects of the virus.”

Yikes. If Nivans was still like the last time I saw him, I could understand why he’d want to put a bullet through his head. If it were me, I would maybe do it. Not that we’re really ones to talk; we had all been a bit hypocritical, kicking up such a fuss to bring him back alive, Redfield most of all. If it was just to let him die right after, what was the point?

“Can’t Redfield watch over him? Nivans is his lieutenant, it’s the least he could do, right? Especially seeing as how he did it all for him. The underwater facility, the virus, and all that. He owes Nivans, big time.

“Well of course Chris wants to stay close to him. He doesn’t trust the medical personnel, at that. But he still has his duties with the BSAA, not to mention the visiting hours are limited.”

I sighed. Yeah, tell me about it.

“That sucks.”

I couldn’t find anything better to say. Sherry seemed somewhat irritated.

“And you know Jake, the reason Piers went down into that underwater facility, it wasn’t to save Chris. It was to save us. You and I, we owe him too, both of us. So don’t be so harsh with Chris. He’s doing his best, and that’s already way more than we can say for ourselves.”

And just like that, I felt lousy. I never asked Nivans for anything, personally. Okay fine, I asked him to save Sherry when I took the escape pod, and he had done it. And well yeah, I also asked him to get us out of there with his cyber-arm, but it was to save the world. When we ran into him, he had already infected himself with the virus, I had nothing to do with it…

“We just have to put him here,” I said offhandedly, gesturing to the empty bed next to mine. “I’ll keep an eye on him,”

Oh okay, so I felt sorry. Sherry looked at me, eyes wide.

“Are you sure?”

“Why not? It’s not like I’m going anywhere, anyways.”

“That would be perfect, but… are you _sure?_

She had good reason to doubt me, the degree of friendship between Nivans and me was close to zero. And what’s more I had planned to throw out that second bed to install a deluxe king-sized bed in its place. But the thing is, when I woke up imprisoned in the underwater facility with Sherry, strapped back to back and dangling a few feet off the ground, completely screwed, and that alarm went off and we were suddenly released without knowing how or why, that’s something I’ll never forget.

“I pay my debts,” I said simply.

Seeing that she was still hesitant, I added:

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. We’ll watch TV. I’ve got nothing else to do with my day anyway, it’ll keep me busy.”

She laughed.

“Okay then. Let me talk to Chris about it. That’s really nice of you, Jake.”

She gave me a kiss and departed. I think that’s the first time that anybody in the whole wide world told me that I did something good. It was stupid how touched I was. All the more so considering that it didn’t even bother me that Nivans was coming to take up space in my room. I was bored as hell, and I was going to have so much fun getting a rise out of him!

He showed up an hour later, unconscious and loaded on a stretcher, with two nurses and Redfield. I grimaced. That was a factor I had forgotten to take into account: If I shared a room with Nivans, I was going to have to deal with his dear old captain.

He directed a nod my way, suspicious.

“Muller.”

“Redfield.”

It couldn’t have pleased him to move his little protégé here. But he said nothing of it, I guess that it really was the best solution to put him here with me.

The nurses set up Nivans in the other bed and they were gone. Sherry stepped out as well, because Mr. Chris Fucking Redfield wanted to be alone. Thanks, I’ll just be here in the background with the rest of the upholstery then. I turned up the volume on the TV, I really had no desire to make small talk with him. He didn’t either, for that matter. He sat with his back to me, close to his lieutenant, and he stayed like that without moving for a good while. After about twenty minutes, he took his hand. Forty minutes later – look out, things were getting steamy – he touched him on the forehead. Fuck, this guy could give those tortoises I saw on National Geographic a run for their money. If it weren’t for the TV I would have fallen asleep just trying to watch him.

He rested his hand there for a moment, on his lieutenant’s forehead, and then he brushed his hand along his cheek, sliding it down to his neck. I’m not sure if he was taking his pulse or if he was tickling his chin, but I don’t really want to know. Redfield let out a deep sigh, more depressing than the ones on the daytime soaps even. Y’know, the ones that sound sad more because the actor is depressed about being in a daytime soap than because he’s trying to convey the character’s emotions properly. But back to Redfield. He seemed to have forgotten I was there. I could have turned up the TV some more, or I could have coughed to remind him that I was still there but I didn’t do either, I don’t know why.

When visiting hours were over, Redfield got up and looked my way. I pretended that I hadn’t looked away from the TV this whole time.

“He’s in your care now, Muller,” he began. “If anything happens to him…”

“Yeah, I know, that’ll be one more reason for you to hate my guts.”

But hey, like he’s one to talk. I wasn’t the one who was right there when Nivans ripped off his prosthetic arm. And I wasn’t the one who was with him when he ripped off his real arm and injected himself with the virus, either. I think it would be hard to do worse than Redfield in the responsibility department.

But I held my tongue, even I’m not that big of an asshole. Redfield took his leave without so much as a goodbye.

I looked over at Nivans. Half of his face was bandaged. No more right arm, not a mutant one, not a normal one, not a plastic one. Just empty space. A void, underneath the covers hiding the carnage that was all that remained of his arm. It was unsettling. As for his left arm, they had attached it to the bedrail, in case he wanted to tear off any other parts of what was left of his body upon waking up.

Poor guy.

I turned back to the TV and I tried to think about something else. He was supposed to wake up tomorrow morning. Like Redfield said, he was under my care now. The realization came with a surge of protectiveness. He wasn’t going to hurt himself, not on my watch.

**Piers:**

I could hear noises all around me. People talking. I didn’t recognize any of the voices. I slowly opened my eyes. Bright fluorescent lights. A hospital. Impossible to move.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I looked around for Chris. The voices I had heard were coming from a TV. A clock on the wall read seven o’clock. Chris wasn’t there.

A man sat in the bed next to mine. It took me a few seconds to recognize Muller. He was watching TV.

Why was I with him? And where was Chris?

“Muller!” I tried to call.

I couldn’t manage to raise my voice enough to get his attention. I wanted to reach my arm out to tap him on the shoulder, and I realized that I was restrained. Why? I felt totally lost. Chris should have been there. He always stayed at the bedside of his men when they had been hurt on a mission. Why had they attached my arm to the bedrail?

The most logical explanation seemed to be that I was about to turn into a J’avo. I shot a glance towards my right arm, there was nothing there. No mutation, no arm, period. It’s weird, but I actually felt more at ease seeing that my arm was no longer there.

What if Chris was dead? The question came abruptly to my mind, stopping all other trains of thought. My heart started racing as I began to fill with dread. Oh god, that would explain his absence. What if the escape pod never made it to the surface? What if I had failed? What if they had found my half-mutated body in the wreckage and were just waiting to see if they needed to finish the job if I turned?

“Muller,” I tried again, agitation growing into panic as I wrestled against the restraint.

This time he noticed, turning towards me.

“You’re awake? Hey, stay still.”

“Where’s Chris?”

“Stay still, will ya? Chris isn’t here because it isn’t visiting hours.”

That helped put me at ease considerably. Muller pressed a call button near his bed and announced that I was awake. A minute later, a doctor and a psychologist appeared. They did a few tests to check my reflex responses, and then they proceeded to explain my situation.

Good news: I was alive, and they had stopped the virus. Bad news: I had lost my arm, and the marks, the discoloration left by the mutation on my face and body were untreatable. Strangely enough, the news had no effect on me, positive or negative. I wanted to see Chris. The rest barely registered.

“Why am I restrained?” I asked anyway.

The psychologist went off on a spiel that I didn’t get at all. She mentioned instability, psychological trauma, emotional imbalance, I couldn’t tell where she was going with it. Hell, where was Chris?

Finally, they left the room. I looked to Jake, feeling totally out of the loop.

“None of that now,” he admonished. “Everything’s ok. Redfield’s ok, Sherry’s ok, you’re ok. The underwater facility was destroyed, we’re all safe now.”

He paused a second before adding,

“How much do you remember, exactly?”

It took some effort to piece together. But the memories came back in fragments as I applied myself to recollecting the events.

“I remember… I remember the facility… I pushed Chris in the escape pod…”

“And then?”

“And then…you guys found me. I waited with Sherry for the battery to charge.”

“And after that?”

“After that…my arm…”

That was basically the extent of what I could remember. Muller filled in what happened after with the prosthesis. I had no memory of it whatsoever. He told me that’s why I was attached to the bedrail. That seemed dumb to me. What did they think I was going to do, missing an arm? Tear off the other one with my teeth?

What’s more, they had put me on sedatives, it seemed. They really didn’t trust me. And what’s with this room? Since when did hospitals have plasma screen TVs? Muller tapped away on his smartphone. What was he still doing here, anyway? If I had been unconscious for two weeks like they said, he should have left the hospital by now. Unless he was hurt.

I wasn’t able to ask him because he had started to place a call on his phone.

“Yeah,” I heard him say. “I’ve got a present for you.”

He leaned over to me and undid the restraint. Was he even allowed? Before I could get so much as a word out, he put the phone in my hand.

“It’s for you.”

Slightly confused, I put the phone to my ear.

“This is Piers Nivans.”

“Piers!”

Upon hearing his voice, I nearly broke down in tears like a little kid. But I didn’t. I’m a soldier.

“Captain.”

“God, Piers, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Same here, Captain.”

Why’d I say that? Why’d I have to say something inappropriate out of the blue? Maybe it was the sedatives talking, or perhaps just my emotions running high that made me blurt out whatever I wanted. But Chris laughed. He actually laughed. Such a light, warm laugh it sent shivers down my spine. In the three years that I had served as his lieutenant, never had I heard him laugh so freely.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m fine. According to the doctor, the virus has been neutralized.”

“I know, it’s great news.”

He didn’t bring up the incident with the prosthesis, and so neither did I. Especially since I didn’t even remember it.

“Muller’s not giving you a hard time?”

“No, no.”

I looked over at Jake, who quickly looked the other way, feigning searching for the remote. I would have liked to ask Chris why they had put me in the same room as this jerk, but I didn’t want him to hear.

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

“I imagine you must be busy… but… do you think you could come visit, one of these days?”

“Of course,” he exclaimed. “I’ll come right away. As soon as the hospital’s open to visitors I’ll be there. I’m sorry I can’t be there right this minute. I really can’t wait to see you.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Not a problem. Get some rest in the meantime.”

“Okay.”

He hung up. I thanked Muller as I returned his phone to him.

“You wounded?” I asked.

“No, why?”

“What are you still doing in the hospital then?”

He told me how he had come on to a ton of money by accepting to stay here for research. That immediately seemed off to me. If Muller had already given his antibodies, why would they still need him here? But he seemed to be settled in okay.

“I was a mercenary before, I’m used to doing real shitty jobs. I tell ya, this job here’s the least annoying and the best paid one I’ve ever had. All I have to do is stay in this hospital. There’s way worse work to be had out there, believe me.”

He also announced that he was going out with Sherry. He tried to sound blasé about it, but he was quite happy, I could tell. He was young, after all.

I watched a bit of TV with him before dozing off. A nurse woke me up some time later, accompanying me to make me do some exercises. I was allowed to get up and stretch, take a few laps down the hallway. All things considered, I was pretty proud of myself.

Chris came to visit as promised, as soon as it was visiting hours. I was sitting up in my bed, comfortably ensconced within my pillows, and was watching TV with muller.

Muller was _nice_ to me, which was beyond unsettling. He talked to me, he made comments about the shows, he said, ‘If you wanna change the channel, let me know.’ What had gotten into him? Did he take pity on me because I had lost an arm? That didn’t seem like him. I didn’t know him very well, but I knew him enough to know that we couldn’t stand each other from the moment we met. I didn’t like that he was suddenly so considerate. It seemed fake. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes.

When Chris arrived however, those worries were completely tossed aside. He opened the door real gently, like he was afraid he might wake me if I were still sleeping. He was holding a large bouquet of flowers, which made me blush, what with Jake right there next to me.

“Piers,” asked my captain as he took a seat close to me, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. I was a bit out of it this morning, but I’m doing better now. A pleasure to see you, Captain.”

Chris smiled.

“I brought you these,” he began, holding out the flowers awkwardly. “I uh… I didn’t really know what to bring, so I thought flowers would be the most appropriate thing for someone in the hospital. To wish you a speedy recovery.”

I was truly touched. My captain just offered me flowers. If it weren’t for Jake, who was there snickering in the bed adjacent, it might have been one of the greatest moments in my life.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Chris placed the flowers on my bedside table, without bothering with a vase to put them in. He must have thought his masculinity had already been threatened enough for one day. There was a bit of tension that hung between us, like neither of knew how to follow from that, but then all at once, Chris turned serious.

“Piers,” he began, his voice grave as he leaned towards me and placed a hand on my shoulder. His other hand hung in the air for a bit. He didn’t know where to put it, since I no longer had a shoulder on my right side. He ended up placing his other hand on my neck. I shuddered. There wasn’t even the faintest trace of disgust in his face when his palm brushed over the mutated flesh underneath the bandages. His thumb was nearly touching my ear. I felt like my breath had been taken away.

“Piers, I never really got to thank you enough for what you did. You saved my life at the cost of a terrible sacrifice. You saved Wesker’s son, you saved Agent Birkin, and what’s more, you came back alive. And for that I will be grateful the rest of my life.”

I wasn’t listening to any of it. He was absently running his thumb over my cheek as he spoke, and it was the hardest thing to keep myself from leaning into his touch and nuzzle against his hand like a pup; or from turning ever so slightly to kiss his open palm. It was right there, nobody would have to know.

“I was only doing my duty,” was how I responded instead.

Like I said, I’m a soldier. Chris shook his head.

“I truly thought that you had died, back there. That after having made that sacrifice for me, you’d never return. And if that had happened, I think I would have gone insane. So thank you for coming back. Thank you for not abandoning me.”

“It’s really nothing, Captain. You know, I didn’t come back solely for your sake.”

What a bold-faced lie that was. Chris was entirely the reason that I had come back with that abomination of an arm and the virus taking over half of my body. The only reason.

His hand felt so nice against me now, I wanted to jump up, and land right into his arms in a warm embrace. I wanted to curl up with my head against his neck, grab on to him, hold him close, bite into the fabric of his t-shirt and never let go. Muller and his snickering be damned. But of course, I did no such thing. This was Captain Chris Redfield of the BSAA we’re talking about.

I nevertheless allowed myself to grasp a part of his vest with my left hand and held on tight. He said nothing. I guess that could be passed off as a result of my emotional imbalance. And if I were to pull him forward until he fell on top of me, would that pass as well?

I’m joking, of course. I know how to control myself. And besides, it’s not like I’d be able to get Chris to budge even an inch with only one arm.

“Captain… when I get out of the hospital… do you think I could get my spot back in the BSAA?”

“That doesn’t seem possible, soldier.”

It didn’t hurt too much to hear at the time, with Chris right there holding me so close, but I’d have plenty of time to revisit that revelation later.

“For now, I don’t want to see you taking even the slightest chances. You’re gonna get nice and rested up, here at the hospital, and when you get out you’re gonna take a long break to reflect on what you wanna do. I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled and lightly ruffled my hair. He had never been this tactile with me.

When he got up to leave, I had a hard time letting go of his vest. I wanted him to leave it with me, to let me sleep with the comfort of his scent nearby. Was that so much to ask? In light of what I had gone through, and also in light of the force with which I loved him, it didn’t seem like too great a request. But I didn’t dare to ask. I let go, chastising myself mentally. Get a grip. I’m a soldier.

“I’ll be back to see you tomorrow. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good, thanks. You aren’t obligated to come visit every day, if you’re busy.”

“It’s my pleasure. See you tomorrow, soldier.”

Walking towards the door, he gave Muller a curt nod.

“Muller.”

“Redfield.”

And as he closed the door behind him, all my confidence seemed to leave with him. I felt Muller’s gaze on me. I paid him no attention. I got up and went to the bathroom to fill up a vase for the flowers. It wasn’t the easiest with only one arm. As I waited for it to fill, I caught my reflection in my mirror. God, did I look ugly and sad. No, stop. Before I depress myself further. Without the bandages, it’ll be even worse.

I exited the bathroom with the vase. Not two seconds had passed before Muller couldn’t resist making a snide comment:

 **Jake** :

“Now that’s the gayest thing I’ve ever seen!”

So what? It’s true! Redfield and Nivans were totally eye fucking each other the whole time. There was so much sexual tension in the room that I nearly popped a boner. Haha, I kid.

Nivans shot me a sour look before he turned the other way, shrugging his shoulders, well, his shoulder.

“You must not get out much, then.”

Did I hear that right? There was quite a bit of bitterness in his voice. What, was he disappointed that I hadn’t wanted to watch them do the hanky-panky, right then and there?

Yeah I’m good, really, no thanks.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He gave me a cold stare. He had placed the vase on the bedside table, and was now struggling to remove the flowers from the paper with only one hand.

“Go ahead.”

“You gay?”

“Yes,” he responded flatly.

Wow, no beating around the bush, even. Stunning.

“You in love with Redfield?”

“None of your business, Muller.”

Definitely a yes, then. I laughed. Nivans was still fumbling with the flowers, unable to manage removing the rubber band from the bouquet on his own. He shook the flowers every which way, all while trying to avoid ruining them. It wasn’t working. In my opinion, he should have tried using his teeth. But I didn’t suggest it; I didn’t like how he was ignoring me like that.

“Damn,” I commented. “In love with Redfield. That’s just nasty! Hey, I’m not judging. Just saying, him? That’s nasty.”

He didn’t respond. That really got on my nerves, I was in a mood to talk. I hadn’t made a peep all afternoon just so these two lovebirds could have their heart-to-heart or whatever, and I was getting bored of it. I didn’t let Nivans stay in my room just to have him give me the cold shoulder. All at once I was a bit miffed.

“So that’s why you follow him around everywhere like you’re his dog, huh? You want his big sausage.”

Silence yet again.

“Or is there something else you’re after, trailing behind him? It’s like that, then? That must suuuuuck!”

Yeah, I know, that was low, but… I just love giving people crap like that, it’s hilarious. I could have kept going all night, but there was no need; with that he exploded. He got up, set the flowers on the ground, and started shouting:

“Goddamnit, shut up, fucking son of a bitch!”

He was standing now, close to my bed, ready to come at me. I wasn’t happy about that at all. In fact, I was absolutely pissed. I had really made an effort, up ‘til now. I had been nice and everything, I swear. Why couldn’t this damn prick be grateful? How come all that bullshit about making the first move never worked for me?

I got up swiftly, even though I wasn’t allowed to. I was livid.

“So what,” I sneered. “I’m just saying, if you wanna take it up the ass, you better start preparing hardcore. Or you know, maybe not, who knows, maybe he’s got a small one! Generally when you weigh 400 pounds…”

Nivans threw a punch to my stomach. I flung him to the ground in an instant. But the thing is, I did it without the slightest effort. With a basic hold that you learn to counter as a yellow belt, even. We found ourselves frozen in shock, both of us blinking in surprise.

Let me make things clear: when it come to hand-to-hand combat, I beat Nivans, well, hands down. I’ve seen him fight, he was great at stomping in zombie heads – as good as any of us – but at the end of the day he was a sniper, after all. His strength was distance. Here, there was no contest, it wasn’t even fair. I kept him held against the ground without any difficulty, flailing helplessly as he struggled with all his might, his only arm pinned behind his back.

And just like that I was sorry. I had gone too far, I realized. Seeing the panic in his eyes, I felt awful. I released my grip gently, trying to sound nice:

“It’s definitely a lot harder with only one arm,” I offered, as kindly as I could manage. “You’re gonna have to work really hard at rehabilitation if you wanna stay in the BSAA.”

He didn’t like that one bit. He picked himself up, somewhat unsteadily, and shot me a look of pure hatred.

“Whoa okay, no need to make that sort of f…”

The door had already slammed shut behind him. I was left alone in the room, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world.

Something I had forgotten to factor in, when I had thought it might be fun to have Nivans in my room, was the fact that, maybe, just maybe, Nivans would have no desire to be stuck with me. Why? Because I’m a sorry bastard of the worst kind, that’s why. I thought that I had changed, that being with Sherry had made me a better person, but this had quickly brought me back to face the ugly truth: I’m the type of guy who insults the gays and beats up the handicapped. Fuck, the shame. This is why I can’t believe that Sherry could be in love with me. How could she, a girl as good as her? Same for Nivans. What have I got that could possibly make him want to gain my friendship? Jack shit. I’m a total jerk.

I glanced at the flowers that lay on the ground. Nivans had tried to sort them out with one arm torn off and I sat there making fun of him. Even though I had told Sherry and Redfield that I’d take care of him, that I’d keep him from getting hurt. I had felt so responsible and protective, I had felt useful to someone. Now? Who knows where he ran off to? He just came out of a coma this morning, fuck! Where could he have gone?

I took off running in search of him. I had really fucked it up big time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued!  
> This fic is definitely a Chris/Piers fic, and yet the character who talks the most is Jake. The reason for that is because, for some reason, I feel most comfortable with his POV (the one that gives me the most trouble is Chris) It might keep going like this for the future, so hope it doesn’t bother you too much!  
> In the next chapter, the bandages are coming off! It’s going to be so sexy! (or not ;-))  
>  _Translator’s note:_  
>  _Yay, some fluff! And then some uh… not-fluff. But fear not, we’re not even a quarter of the way through with their story. ;) ;) So hold on to your seats, there’s plenty more coming! (Just don’t hold on too tight, lest you be disappointed with me for not working quickly enough. I’m sorry, this chapter was a bit long and took me a while to get through!) And about the author’s note, the fic will have the most of Jake’s POV I believe, that I can confirm. I actually think that’s one of the coolest part of this fic, because it’s an interesting outside perspective of Chris/Piers at times, but still remains an integral part of the story. But don’t worry if Jake’s POV isn’t your favorite, (I’m actually in the opposite boat as the author; his POV gives me the hardest time to translate with all the slang) he doesn’t dominate the story entirely. This is definitely a Chris/Piers fic._  
>  _On another note, hope you guys are enjoying reading this story so far, and thank you so much for reading, leaving kudos, and/or comments! Like I said in the beginning, the main reason that I started this project to translate the story was because I enjoyed it so much I wanted to share it with more people. But actually seeing that people are reading it and liking it makes it that much more special, so thanks again, it means a lot to both me and the original author!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Post-injection 5.**

**Piers:**

Don’t look back, I repeated to myself, don’t think about it. Just take it step by step, everything will work out on its own.

Still, Muller’s a real son of a bitch.

As I ran out of the room, I hoped I could still catch Chris, but he had already left. What would I have said, anyway? ‘Captain, Muller’s being mean to me, can you give me a hug?’ Pff. As if.

I ended up finding the reception desk, where I asked to change rooms. Looking around, it was a bit unsettling. The hospital was deserted. Apart from the receptionist, there wasn’t a soul in sight. She asked me to wait there while she requested authorization, leaving me to sort out the chaos in my head.

I tried not to think about what happened back there. The fact that I couldn’t even manage to get those damn flowers in a vase, the fact that Muller knows about Chris now, his filthy comments, and the ease with which he was able to pin me to the ground. If I still had both arms, it wouldn’t have gone down like that.

But what hurt the most to think about was Chris, though I couldn’t say why. Him, and also catching my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I couldn’t get the image out of my head.

Don’t think about it. One thing at a time.

Right now, for example, I’m waiting for the receptionist. No need to have two arms for that. So nothing to get depressed about. And hey, there’s a vending machine at the end of the hallway, I’m going to get a drink while I wait. How long has it been since I had a genuine, American Coca-Cola? Too long.

I grabbed the can, and that’s when I nearly fell apart. A few days ago I was running to escape a giant invisible snake that had swallowed up my entire squad, and here I am now, on the verge of tears because I didn’t know how to open a simple can of coke. How miserable.

Okay, let’s try to be practical about this. How do you open a can with only one hand, without whining to the receptionist for help? I could sit down, and hold the can between my knees while I used my left hand to open it. And if that didn’t work, I could try to use my teeth.

I sat there for who knows how long, smack dab in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out the best way to open that wretched can. How could I possibly hope to wield an anti-materiel rifle if I couldn’t even manage to open a stupid soda? No, I had to stop myself before I spiraled any further down that hole. Ok, breathe. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad. I’ve still got both legs, that’s good. And Chris is still alive, that’s what matters most. And they’re already on their way to putting out the vaccine. No use crying about it, it could be worse. It’s just a can. It’s nothing. It’s stupid. Stop thinking about it.

Someone took the coke from my grasp and opened it effortlessly. It was Muller. I flinched back, startled, when I realized he was there. I hadn’t seen him approach.

“I’m not thirsty anymore,” I told him icily as he held out the opened soda to me.

For a second I thought he was going to throw it in my face, but then he replied:

“Listen, about before. I didn’t think about what I was saying. And I didn’t mean to hit you.”

What’s this? Was I dreaming? Wesker’s son was apologizing? Since I didn’t respond, he continued:

“You’re gonna ask to change rooms, huh?”

“It’s already in the process.”

He seemed to hesitate a moment, searching for the right words to say.

“Give me a chance. I’ll make it up to you.”

Wow. That was one of the last things I would have expected.

“I fucked up, alright? I was a jerk, I’m sorry. C’mon, whattaya say?”

“Why are you so intent that we share a room, Muller? We despise each other.”

“I’m trying to make an effort here, okay? I’m doing my best to nice. I called Redfield so that you could talk to him ‘cause you looked lost. I didn’t say a word when he got here. For the rest, I said I’m sorry.”

As weird as it may have seemed, he appeared to be sincere. Nevertheless, I had no desire to deal with him any longer.

“Apology accepted. But I prefer to have my own room just the same.”

“Oh, for the love of –“

He took a deep breath.

“Okay, listen. I don’t care that you’re gay. I don’t give a damn that you’re in love with Redfield. The only reason I said all that crap was because I was pissed that you were ignoring me. You might have just gotten out of a coma this morning, but for me it’s been two weeks that I’ve been stuck in this hospital, and you know who’s come to visit me besides Sherry? No one. Nobody, Nivans. So I offered to have you set up in my room, to stop you from doing anything stupid or whatever, but in reality it was because I’m bored out of my mind. I’m tired of being all by myself all the time. I know that I’m an asshole, but I’m trying to be better, I swear. But it won’t work if nobody ever gives me a chance, y’know? So I’m asking you one more time: take your fuckin’ coke and give me a chance.”

I took a step back. I didn't want to argue, I didn't want to fight. So I took the proffered cola, still with a little suspicion. He huffed something along the lines of, ‘finally,’ and then got a can from the vending machine himself.

“So are we good?” he asked, raising his soda to toast with mine, “Can we put that behind us?”

“Do you feel sorry for me?” I asked out of nowhere.

“What's that got to do with anything?”

“Just answer the question.”

He gave me the once over.

“Definitely,” he responded, nonchalant. “Real sorry. And what about you, do you feel sorry for me?”

His answer took me by surprise. Now it was my turn to examine him in his hideous hospital gown (the same as the one that I was wearing, incidentally), with his look that was more than just a little rough around the edges, his cold eyes. Nobody had come to visit him. The world didn't give a damn that he made it out alive. I wavered.

“Well…”

That made him laugh.

“You see! C’mon, cheers. To us surviving.”

We clinked our cans together purposefully, keeping eye contact as we did so.

“Muller!” Shouted a research doctor, hurrying toward us. “What are you doing, up and about? You're going to make the experiment invalid!”

“Uh oh, wouldn't want that, you'd have to do your dumb experiment over again! C'mon Nivans, let's head back before they piss me off.”

I followed after him, and as we passed through reception I told the receptionist I had changed my mind while Jake was busy arguing with the doctor. I was going to give Jake his second chance. Why? I don't quite know; I suppose it had shaken me up a bit, the way he had presented things. And on top of that, it was easy to get terribly depressed when I was alone. If there's one thing I couldn't fault this guy for, it's that he had a knack for taking my mind off things, making me focus on other problems.

“What's up with this experiment?” I asked as we went back up.

“Don’t know, don’t care. I'm immunized against the virus, anyway.”

“Does Sherry know?”

“Well yeah. I told you, we're going out.”

“She’s not worried about it?”

“Why would she be worried?”

I didn't answer. Personally, I'd be worried in their situation. Experiments on human subjects, they're never good. Particularly in a lab specializing in research on bioterrorism. Well, I guess they know what they're doing.

When we got back to the room, the first thing Muller did was to pick up the flowers off the ground and place them in the vase. I never would have dared to ask him. He really was trying. I decided that it couldn't hurt to be a bit nicer, on my part.

I sat on my bed as I watched him try to arrange the flowers.

“Chris isn't aware,” I told him.

“Of what?”

“That I'm gay. He doesn't know, I haven't told him.”

Jake gave me an oblique glance from where he was finishing up with the flowers.

“How long have you known him for now?”

“Five or six years, but we've only been working together for three.”

Silence. I got the impression that he found that bizarre, which made me nervous.

“Usually I don't have a problem with it,” I justified. “I never hid it, I mean. But it’s different with Chris. I'd prefer that he didn't find out, so don't tell him, okay?”

“Okay, I won't say anything.”

He stretched out on his bed and turned on the TV. He flicked through a few channels before speaking up again, this time without even looking away from the screen:

“Can I tell you something you're not gonna like to hear?”

God. What was he going to lay on me this time?

“Go ahead,” I sighed.

“If you wanna bang him, you're doin’ a pretty shitty job with it.”

I reddened.

“I have a-absolutely no intention to b-bang him!” I spluttered, indignant.

“Seriously?”

Muller studied me now, trying to judge if I was telling the truth. I shrugged my shoulders.

“I don't try to hit on straight guys.”

“So you just plan on doing nothing?”

“What would you have me do?”

“I dunno, anything, try some stuff.”

I sighed. He thinks like that because he's still just a kid, under all that attitude.

“That doesn't concern you.”

But of course, he was already all fired up. I'm not sure if this was his way of being nice, but if so it was even worse than before.

“Honestly,” he began, “you could definitely bang him. According to Sherry, when you were in a coma he came to visit you every day. And yesterday when they moved you here, he stayed the entire time until visiting hours were over. He held your hand, he petted your neck and everything… I swear, I even thought he was going to start blubbering over you. And oh, look at that! He brought you flowers! If that's not gay, I don't know what is…”

“Stop!”

He went quiet at once. I had snapped at him pretty abruptly. He was getting my hopes up. He had good intentions, and some part of me was happy that Chris had been worried about me while I was unconscious. But more than anything it hurt, because Jake was way off base. I knew Chris better than he did. He was imagining things between us that weren't really there.

Before Muller had the chance to get upset, I tried again, more calmly this time:

 “In any case, even if he wasn't straight, it's not like I've got the slightest chance. Look at me.”

Only one arm, half of my body absolutely butchered.... I imagine that in Chris’ top ten worst nightmares, it would surely be there: waking up one fine day next to a J’avo in his bed. A male, at that. No, just thinking about it makes me feel sick on his behalf.

Muller turned back to the TV before long. I thought that maybe he had finally decided to shut his trap but no such luck. This guy just never stops, does he?

“Yeah okay, you're pretty banged up, but you saved his life! The reason you lost your arm and ended up with that mug of yours was because you did it for him. So I'd say you've definitely got the right to…”

“That’s enough,” I interrupted again. “He doesn't owe me anything. I didn't save him because I love him, I did it because it's my duty as a lieutenant to protect my captain. It doesn't give me the right to anything.”

“Are you for real, Nivans? You want me to believe that you ripped off your arm because it was your duty? For your salary that's just above minimum wage?

“Yes.”

“And what, you injected yourself with the virus in hopes of getting a promotion?”

“That’s it.”

“And you let Redfield return to the surface by himself to earn the medal of honor?”

“Shut up.”

He was really getting on my nerves! Why the hell did he care in the first place? I think he was disgusted that I was in love with Chris. He gave a short laugh and said:

“Fine, I'll stop. Redfield’s a jerk, anyway. You can do better.”

“Speaking of people who could do better,” I replied, irritated, “How's Sherry doing?”

“Ha, ha.” responded Jake, suddenly subdued. “Very funny.”

At that point, a nurse came in and gave Muller a series of exams. Blood pressure, reflex response, pupil dilation, that kind of thing. She recorded the results on a notepad. Then she drew some blood and sent him to the bathroom to get a urine sample as well. I took the chance to ask why they needed all that. _Confidential_ , she said, without even looking up from her notes. For a patient who had come to the hospital for a simple blood donation, that seemed really fishy to me.

When Jake came back she hooked him up to an IV, informing him that he wasn't allowed to eat for the next 48 hours. Before taking her leave, she also reminded him not to exercise, and not to get up except to go to the bathroom.

I told him again that this wasn't normal. He should at least be informed if of what experiments they were conducting on him.

“I've got 50 million dollars in the bank now,” he responded, “So no, I'm not gonna complain. And as someone who supposedly did _not_ inject himself with the C-virus out of love, you’re in no place to judge.”

Fine then, I'd better try to talk to Sherry about it. I wouldn't be getting anywhere with this idiot.

“I don't know what they inject me with but it drains me,” he said, yawning. “Have the remote, I'm gonna sleep.”

I didn't really feel like watching TV. I turned off the lights and went to bed as well.

In the dark, I couldn't keep the cascade of depressing thoughts from haunting my mind. How could anyone, when there was nothing but silence in the hospital? My military career was over and done, it was almost guaranteed. In the case of permanent disability incurred during active service, the BSAA provides a pension for life. I don't know exactly how much it is, but it's hardly a large sum, unless you've also got a family to support. Enough to survive at least, provided that you stop by the soup kitchen from time to time. But what was I going to do all day on my own with only one arm? Would I be able to find work in this state? Would I even dare to go out in public with my mutated face?

Jake suddenly spoke up:

“I know perfectly well that Sherry deserves better than a guy like me, I'm not an idiot.”

Was he talking to me? Or maybe he had forgotten I was there and was just thinking out loud? The silence grew heavy. In the end I felt obligated to respond:

“What? No. I didn't mean it, you were just getting annoying.”

I heard him shift on his bed.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, sounding rather unconvinced. “Are you gonna tell me that you honestly think Sherry deserves a guy like me?”

And here I thought Muller considered himself to be the eighth wonder of the world. I was completely taken aback. He was actually a lot less comfortable in his own skin than he put on.

“Sherry’s an adult. She can make her own choices.”

“Then maybe she's a bit of an idiot,” he murmured, barely loud enough to hear.

That I didn't like. I sat up.

“What’s the matter with you, all of a sudden? You spent the day bragging that you two were together. Are you telling me you're not happy?”

“It's not that,” he huffed. “She’s just so different from the girls I'm used to getting! I mean… she's pretty, fit, smart, brave, kind, and not someone who’s totally insane, y’know? What the hell is she doing with me?”

I thought back to that moment in the underwater facility. Sherry sitting on the ground, blushing as she explained that she and Jake weren't together but that she hoped to fix that as soon as we got out.

“She loves you,” I said simply.

“That's what I don't get! Ever since we met, all I've done is yell, talk trash, make her feel bad about herself…”

I didn't dare tell him that he was like that with everyone. Now wasn't the time.

“Meanwhile, she's perfect. She could be with any guy she wanted, and yet she chose the worst one. And since I'm under lockdown in this stupid hospital, I can't even take her out for a drive, or bring her nice places, or I don't know, do things like a normal couple does. She’s forced to come here. Don't you think I'm dragging her down? Honestly, I think it's weird that she’s still with me. I have nothing for her, besides the money.”

What did he expect me to say to all that? Oh no, Muller, you're great, you're strong, you're an amazing human being. Sorry, not happening.

“Clearly. You're also a ginger.”

I couldn't resist. Muller stayed silent for a moment. I briefly wondered if I had made him mad.

“Y'know what, Nivans? Just wait until you see your face without the bandages, then you can make cracks about appearances. I'm sure that'll be way funnier to see.”

Yep. Angry as a wasp. A ginger wasp. I wanted to laugh.

“You're getting worked up over nothing, Muller. Sherry knows what she's doing. You guys are good together.”

“I mean yeah… doesn't change the fact that she didn't bring me flowers though.”

I grinned.

“Jealous?”

“As if. The day that I'm jealous of you and Redfield, shoot me, seriously. Because honestly, Redfield, like I’m about to…”

“Didn't you say you wanted to sleep?

“Wha- fine! Whatever, and here I was just trying to be nice!”

This time, I nearly burst out laughing. I heard Muller turn over in his bed, grumbling about something or other.

“Good night, anyways, you rotten flea-ridden mutt.”

I fell asleep with my spirit just a bit lighter after that.

 

Sherry came to visit the next day, and would you look at that, she brought me a bouquet of flowers even larger than the one Chris had gave me. Jake stood there watching like I had grown two heads, especially when Sherry took his vase to hold the flowers, seeing that mine was already in use.

“To thank you for saving all of us,” she explained before giving me a big hug.

I squeezed her tight as we hugged. I was truly happy to see her again.

Chris came as well. He brought a meal that we all ate together, with the exception of Jake who was on the IV. It was really nice for all of us to be there together for once, and to see the proof that we all made it out alive. Sherry and I recounted how we had passed the time down in the facility, waiting for those twelve interminable hours as the battery charged. The childish games, the idle conversations… In hindsight, without the hunger, the exhaustion, and the utter despair at the prospects of dying down there with Ustanak, it was pretty funny how we made it through. Of course, there were things that we didn't share. What Sherry had said about Jake, what I said about Chris; that would stay between us forever.

I felt good, with the three of them. I wanted to show Chris that I was okay, that I hadn't lost my will to live. I didn't want to make him feel guilty by being depressed while he was there. The virus, that was all behind us now. I didn't want Chris to think that I was unhappy or that I regretted it.

Chris and Jake participated a bit, they laughed at the parts that were funny and asked questions when appropriate, but the rest of the time they spent glaring at each other. I wasn’t complaining; at least they weren't yelling at each other.

Sitting on Jake's bed, Sherry was explaining their side of the story. Everything that had happened with her ex-employer Simmons had really shaken her up. If she hadn't run into Leon S. Kennedy, who told her to keep her guard up against Simmons, she would have innocently handed over Jake, the antibodies, and the future of the world. She couldn't have known, but the scare and the betrayal weighed heavily on her mind, and so she was a bit leery about returning to her job as a government agent.

“I don't see why you'd want to go back there.” Jake huffed. “I'm a millionaire. You don't need to work, especially if it's at a dangerous job.

Sherry looked away. Not sure she was very pleased to hear that.

Chris asked her if she could see herself joining the BSAA. Before she could respond, Jake leapt out of his bed and started shouting Chris down. Sherry and I tried to intervene, about three seconds too late. We were all standing now, facing off and yelling at each other, just like good old times.

A nurse came in, causing everyone to turn towards the source of the interruption. I thought she was going to tell us to quiet down and stop making such a racket, but in fact she did nothing of the sort:

“Mr. Muller, you're ordered to stay lying down. Lieutenant Nivans, follow me. We are going to remove your dressing.”

Already? It was too soon, I wasn’t ready! I wasn’t ready to see my mutated face and have to deal with it. To watch people recoil in horror or disgust when they saw my face, I couldn't do that yet. I needed more time, to get used to the idea before it actually happened, it was way too soon!

I looked to Chris. Suddenly the silence in the room was suffocating.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he proposed.

Oh no, what was I doing? Didn't I say I would be fine? Didn't I say that I wasn’t going to be a burden on my captain? Get it together!

“I'll be fine, Captain. You keep bickering and don't give in to him!”

I followed the nurse to a small room two floors down. While she removed the bandages, she explained that I was out of danger, theoretically. I would stay here a few more weeks for observation and then I'd be free to go. I couldn’t even imagine it, going outside with my face uncovered. I’d cause mass panic in the streets.

The nurse went out briefly to retrieve something in the adjoining room. I looked down at my body. The mutation was all gray with angry splotches of red, and there were parts covered with horrifying translucent veins. It extended from the right side of my chest and my back all the way down to my hip. I poked the flesh with the end of my finger. It felt cold and strange, absolutely disgusting and inhuman. It was totally numb, I didn't feel anything. I couldn't wait to take a pair of scissors to it and cut it all off.

The nurse returned shortly. Before I could have a chance to say anything she held a mirror right in front of me.

At first, I didn't even recognize the face I saw. I took it for a J’avo. My right eye was damaged beyond recognition, swollen with blood, the surrounding skin looking like mincemeat.

But the left side of my face was mine alright. I quickly shifted my gaze to that side of the mirror. God, how was I supposed to live with this? It's nothing, I automatically repeated to myself internally. Appearances don't mean anything. I wasn’t a model after all, so why did it bother me so much?

But I couldn't help it. I was horrified just the same. The problem was, it wasn't just about unattractiveness: I wasn't just ugly. I wasn’t just disfigured for life. I was a monster. A mutant. A J’avo.

“We're all done here,” said the nurse, unperturbed. “You're free to return to your room.”

She must have worked in a gulag, this nurse. I put my t-shirt back on. The right sleeve hung pathetically in the empty space, only adding to my ‘miserable invalid’ look. How were the others going to react? Jake would surely crack a shitty joke, something along the lines of, ‘Hey Nivans, if you wanna bang Ustanak, you've got a great shot at it.’ Chris and Sherry though, I wasn’t sure. I assume that they'd try to be nice about it, at least I hope. It wasn't going to be easy to face them.

All of a sudden I really didn't want to do it. I contemplated turning around and booking it, finding a janitor's closet or a bathroom somewhere to hide until visiting hours were over. Better yet, maybe I could drown myself in a mop bucket to spare Chris from ever seeing my mutilated face. No, that wouldn't do. It was both morbid and childish, and if he were the one to have to fish me out, he’d be traumatized for life, not to mention he'd see the awful mutation anyway. And in any case, it was too late now, I didn't have much of a choice. The nurse had her eyes fixed on me as she held the door open, silently saying to me, ‘any day now, dear.’ Well at least somebody wasn't bothered by my appearance.

Chris was waiting just beyond the door, which the nurse had promptly shut behind me. Shit. I thought that he had stayed in the room, this was just brutal, I wasn't prepared for this! I didn't even have the time to compose what I was going to say, what look to plaster on my face to look the least awful as possible.

So I just stood there dumbly, looking down at the ground like a kid on the first day of preschool.

“Piers,” Chris said softly. “Look at me.”

Oh god oh god ohgod, what was he thinking? What did he think about my face? I looked at his boots. I couldn't bring myself to look any higher. Whatever look he had in his eyes I didn't want to know. I was too afraid that I'd find disgust, or pity, or even worse: guilt.

For me, the fact that I did it for him helped me, it gave me strength. I might be stuck with the face of a monster and I might be missing an arm, but I did it for Chris. It helped me to move forward knowing that I had done something good in making that sacrifice. But at the same time, it terrified me that he might think the same thing, that I had done it for him. Because knowing him, it would eat at his conscience.

“C'mon, soldier, look up.”

It couldn't be helped. Try as I might, I couldn't keep from averting my gaze. I couldn't manage to talk, either, my throat was completely dry. I think if I opened my mouth to speak I would have let out a whimper like a puppy. I was already acting weird enough as it is. What's more, I don't know if it was because I was freaking out, but my arm was starting to hurt again. Phantom limb pain. The doctor had said there'd be no avoiding it.

“Piers! Look at me, for chrissakes!”

This time, he used his commanding Captain's voice. If he thought that was going to make me obey, he wasn't very smart. The last time he had taken that tone of voice with me was in the underwater facility. _Open the goddamn door, that's an order!_ There was that same need, that same sense of powerlessness channeled into anger. It's no use shouting, Chris, when I can't, I just can't. Not then, and not now.

Still, I had startled like an idiot. I wasn’t too far from crying now and wouldn't that just take the cake. Hell. It was shameful, presenting myself like that in front of my captain. Acting the way I did, I was throwing his failure right in his face. I just wanted to show that I was strong, and instead I turned out looking like a pathetic loser.

He took a step towards me, and I recoiled involuntarily. No no no no no Chris, don't yell at me. I'll get better, I promise, just give me an hour to sort myself but don't make me look at you right now.

“Oh, Piers,” he sighed.

He closed the space between us and took me in his arms.

Normally, I wouldn't have let it happen. I would have turned it into a manly clap on the back between guys with no room for ambiguity. I know, I can be pretty stupid sometimes. But in that moment I didn't have the strength, I just let myself go. I buried my head against his chest, letting him stroke my hair as he reassured me it was all gonna be okay. Notably, he told me that he didn’t care about my appearance in the slightest, all that mattered to him was that I had come back alive.

At first, I didn't want to listen at all. I was content with simply being there in his arms, forgetting about the mutation, the scars, the shitty prospects of my future, as I steadied my breathing to the beat of his heart. And little by little, his voice made its way into my head, and I finally started to feel a little better. Okay, yes, I inflicted these terrible mutations on myself in order to save Chris, but I also stayed alive because of him, and he knew. And he was proud of me. And that, that helped a hell of a lot to hear.

I stepped back to look him in the eyes like he wanted. It wasn't easy, it was embarrassing, but it was hardly insurmountable.

“I'm okay, Captain, thank you. Sorry, I kind of lost it back there…”

“Nothing to apologize for. C'mon.”

We headed back towards the room. Too late to turn back now, but the hardest part was already done. Putting up with Jake's crappy digs, it was nothing compared to having to face Chris’ remorse.

**Jake:**

God damn, the poor sucker, what a face! Sherry and I had agreed that when Nivans returned without the bandages, we wouldn't let there be an awkward silence, to avoid making him feel bad. But when we saw him, neither of us could find the words to say.

It wasn't so much the mutation, we had already seen what the virus had done back in the underwater facility, and at least now most of the carnage had been cleaned up, so it already looked a bit better. No, what had stopped us in our tracks when we saw him was how unsettled he seemed. He kind of hung back a ways behind Redfield the whole time, and his eyes darted everywhere except towards us. Even when he had come out of the coma and realized he was missing an arm, he hadn't been this out of sorts.

His right eye had changed. Back in the facility, it had been milky and busted up. Now it was pretty red, like the blood vessels had all burst.

Hard to believe that less than an hour ago he’d been totally fine, just telling a story with Sherry. For a minute I thought that he had already recovered from the shock, and that he was blatantly trying to show off in front of Redfield. But he didn't say a word, looking totally broken. An awkward silence filled the room, despite our plan and everything.

Normally, in these situations, I'd crack a joke. Something like, ‘Hey Nivans, if you wanna bang Ustanak you've got a great chance!’ but seeing how down he looked, I couldn't. His face was all messed up, the mutated skin trailing down the length of his neck before disappearing into his T-shirt. Said T-shirt hung lifelessly on his right side, where his arm used to be. All in all he painted a depressing picture, dampening my spirit to even try and make fun of him.

“Hey Redfield, didn't you say that you'd tell me whatever I wanted to know about my father when we made it out of the facility?”

Okay, so I backed out of it. I’d rather get my kicks elsewhere. But believe it or not, it was the first time in my life I had passed up a chance to take a crack at someone. I know, what a great guy, right?

Piers made eye contact with me. He didn't seem relieved, in fact, it seemed quite the opposite. Uh oh. Maybe, I had played the wrong card and screwed up, bad. Maybe he had expected that I would immediately make fun of him and so he thought that I was too shocked to take a dig at him like I usually did. Shit, I hope that wasn't the case, the idiot.

In any case, Redfield was glad and jumped on the chance to change the subject.

“Of course. What do you want to do know about him?”

I'll let Nivans slide for now. There's plenty that I'd still like to know about my father.

“What did he look like?”

“Tall. Blond.”

“Was he badass?”

“Badass? He tried to destroy the world, Muller. You might find that _badass_ but a countless number of people died because of him.”

Redfield started telling one horrible story after another about my father's legacy, and after fifteen minutes, I was even more depressed than Nivans.

I had known for a long time now that my father was the biggest asshole on the planet. When I was a kid, I hated him because he didn't want me and he had left mom on her own. But deep down, when I imagined my father, he was always some sort of hero, or at least a guy who wasn't too lame. But with this, with everything that Redfield had said about him, I had hit the jackpot. An absolute criminal against humanity, no less. Okay, I never knew him, he's not the one who raised me and besides he was dead so I didn't have to care. But still, damn if it wasn't a blow to the ego. It's kind of like if you were told you were the son of Hitler. Traumatizing.

Soon it was the end of visiting hours. Sherry and Redfield took over ten minutes to say goodbye to Nivans, giving him hugs, ruffling his hair, telling him nice things. And what am I, chopped liver? Yeah okay, so I'm not mutilated for life, but Sherry’s supposed to be my girlfriend.

I'm sure that she was giving me the cold shoulder because I had gone off on Redfield for suggesting the BSAA. But what do you expect, honestly! Did he want her dead or what? I didn't want my girlfriend to end up like Nivans.

Or like Redfield, for that matter. A 350-pound Sherry seemed decidedly less attractive.

Anyway, once they were gone, I was about to gripe about it but Nivans was sitting there staring at the wall with a dead expression on his face, like a potato. Forgotten somewhere, looking miserable and discolored, growing eyes that made it look all the more grotesque. Okay okay, that was too much, but I couldn't resist! I'm not sure what he was thinking about in that head of his, but it definitely couldn't have been good for him.

“Hey,” I called. “y'know what you remind me of?”

He gave me a look, wary.

“What?”

With the two-colored face and those sad eyes, he made me think of a cow. But I mean, I wasn’t about to tell him that! He also made me think of a Jack Russell terrier. You know, those dogs with the colored patches over their eye. I googled a picture with my smartphone, and I found one that bore an uncanny resemblance: the patch was in the same spot on his face and even better, looked like it was sulking.

I showed it to him. To my great relief, it made him laugh. Just barely, but it was a good start.

“Coming from you, I expected worse.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“A photo of Ustanak, for example.”

I laughed.

“Why, you want one? You _would_ look good together with that new face of yours. I'm sure you’re just his type.”

And bam! I managed to squeeze in my little jab after all! Things were looking up!

Nivans didn't really react, good or bad. He had already gone back to his gloomy thoughts.

“I got you something,” I told him.

He turned back towards me as I took out Redfield’s vest. Nivans frowned.

“Where did you get that?”

“It fell off his chair when we were arguing. I swiped it when he went to go look for you.”

“What the hell, Jake! Why would you do such a thing?”

“Oh please! Just yesterday when you came out of your coma it was pretty apparent that you wanted it like baby wants his binky.

He blushed violently.

“That's bullshit!”

“It's okay, no big deal. Redfield didn't even notice that he forgot his vest, anyways. I keep one of Sherry’s panties under my pillow, I get it.

“That's not the same at all! And god, keep that kind of thing to yourself!”

He was completely flustered, it was hilarious. I shook his beloved captain's XXL vest like a cape at a bullfight. In the end he caved, sighing:

“Okay, fine. Give it here. I'll return it to him when he comes back.”

I tossed it to him. He placed it on top of his knees, steadying it there to try and fold it with his one arm. It didn't turn out perfect, but it was folded correctly. When he was done, he set it on the bedside table, and then we looked at each other. I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

“You sure are an idiot sometimes, Muller,” he huffed.

“Is that how you thank me?”

He turned off the lamp by our beds and lay on his side, turning his back to me. I turned on the TV. A teen drama was on, the worst kind of trashy series that I loved to watch in secret. God, I hoped they were finally gonna say goodbye to that insufferable redhead this episode. Couldn't they see that she was clearly in cahoots with the murderer? During the commercial, I snuck a glance over at Nivans.

He was holding on to his captain's vest once more, and was sleeping with his head buried inside.

It’s not usually my style, but I found it adorable. With his arm torn off, his faced reduced to pulp, and his impossible love, hard to begrudge him such a small comfort. I hoped that good things would come to him soon. Because, well, who doesn't deserve a bit of happiness? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go!  
> I hope you guys liked this chapter! It was a long one!  
> See you soon for the next one!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!  
> I realized that since the start I still haven't put the disclaimer in this fic! So a little belatedly, you are hereby informed that Resident Evil and all of its characters do not belong to me; (nope!) they are property of Capcom, and they do a really good job! (Despite the B-movie storylines and the stilted dialogue ;D) Besides, if the characters belonged to me, Leon would never have reached over 30 with that haircut. Never.  
> Thank you for the reviews! Happy reading!

 

**Post-injection 6.**

**Chris:**

I started drinking again. I know that it wasn't a good idea considering my history but what else could I do? Seeing my lieutenant’s face was a shock that I couldn't recover from so easily.

When would people stop sacrificing themselves for me? Did they really think that it made me happy, all those soldiers, all those men who died before my eyes? My life is worth no more than anyone else's, so why were so many people so ready to give up theirs in order to save mine?

I tried not to show my anger and my bewilderment in front of Piers. The last thing he needed was to deal with my demons on top of his own. In fact, I should be offering him my support, be strong enough for the two of us. When I had held him close, I had felt him calm down, little by little. But my shame wouldn't go away. Why did he, a young, ambitious soldier with a bright future, have to pay the price in my place?

I held in my hands a letter of appreciation for his distinguished service within the BSAA, as well as a summons to the General’s office where he would receive a medal and a pension of 900 dollars. In short: thank you and goodbye.

It was up to me, as his captain, to break the news to him. That definitely merited a glass or two of bourbon.

As for me, while Piers had been politely dismissed, they had refused my resignation due to lack of personnel able to fill my role. All that I was able to obtain was a one month’s leave of absence to recover from the psychological stress following the China mission. I had had more than enough of the BSAA, of death, of sacrifices. I just wanted to drop everything and dedicate my time to taking care of my lieutenant.

There was something unwholesome about this medical research center. I saw how they had insidiously turned Muller into a guinea pig. I wanted to get Piers out of there, set him up at my place and take care of him. I wanted to cook for him, tuck him in at night, read him to sleep… I wanted him to feel taken care of by me, seeing that it was because of me that he was hurting.

But instead, I had to leave him in the hands of Wesker Jr., it was frustrating. Piers had never been the most amiable person; for as long as I've known him, I've always seen him with his guard up, wary and even a bit cold towards the other soldiers. I was astonished that he tolerated Muller’s irritating comments and his deplorable character so well. Especially considering that they went at it like cat and dog on their first encounter.

Nevertheless, I had to admit, though it pained me ever so slightly to do so, that Piers and Jake seemed to get along. I might even go as far to say that Jake’s presence had a beneficial effect on Piers. After that terrible moment when he had his bandages removed, his morale seemed to improve slowly. He started to accept his appearance, he was no longer afraid to look me in the eyes. Sure, it brought me untold relief to see him doing better, but I would have liked to play a greater role in helping put him back together. I would have liked to be the one he could lean on, rather than Muller, but with the ridiculously limited visiting hours that were permitted, it was impossible. I guess I should consider myself fortunate that Muller was keeping Piers on the right track in my place.

Despite all that, I didn't like this new association with Wesker’s son, beneficial or not. The accident must have made Piers wiser, or perhaps made him take a blow to his pride, because he didn't offer his friendship so easily, before.

I had always secretly enjoyed being the only one to find favor with my all too serious sniper elite, so it might have been the slightest hint of jealousy that I felt when I saw him talking to Jake without that cold, irritated expression that I had formerly been the sole person to escape.

It was stupid, I know. The poor kid well deserved to have a bit of friendship in his life.

I put the bottle away. I didn't want to be drunk in front of my sister, it had been months now since I hadn’t seen her. I had called her a few days ago to tell her I was back in the States, but she herself was abroad. In Edonia, to be exact. When I asked her what she was doing all the way over there, she responded angrily:

“What do you think, asshole?”

Upon learning that I had been reported missing six months ago, she had gone off to look for me. Just like Raccoon City. Claire didn't have any memories of our parents, she had been too young to remember when they had passed away. So if she ever lost track of me, she was ready to infiltrate whatever enemy base necessary in order to get me back. I had repeated over and over to her not to take unnecessary risks, but with her mule-headed tendencies she never listened to me. Thankfully, she's pretty resourceful. She was able to escape the quarantine zone that she had gotten herself into during her search and managed to hop on a plane before I was the one who had to go back there and get her from Edonia.

She was landing today. I came to get her at the airport, and since I got there early I allowed myself a quick whiskey break in my car. Claire would drive on the way back.

She was almost certainly going to chew me out for having been gone for so long without any news, but I still couldn't wait to see her, my pesky little sister. A lot had happened since I had told her that I was being deployed to Edonia with my team as backup in the wake of a bioterrorist attack, back in December. Back when I could never even have imagined that I would lose all my men, turn amnesiac and desert, or that Piers would end up like this. And to top it all off, that the entire hellish nightmare would be regarded as a victory for the BSAA in the end.

One more shot and that was it. Even if it was just one person, I had a family. And that was much better than alcohol.

**Piers:**

Today was the first day since I woke up from the coma that Chris didn't come visit. He had told me in advance: he had to pick up his sister from the airport. I wasn’t bothered. After all, he had his own life, and besides, I had some plans for the day.

I had no intention to be a burden on others for the rest of my life. I had lost an arm, not both. I should be able to be independent, and if that meant relearning how to do everything in my daily routine, then so be it. The sooner I get started, the better. It wasn’t always going to be easy maybe, but I was motivated.

I decided to start simple, to settle the debacle of opening that can of soda once and for all. The anti-materiel rifle would have to wait, it was still too early.

Last time I had tried opening a bottle of water. I sat on my bed and held it in place with my knees. I opened it no problem, except with the shift in pressure in the bottle, I squeezed my knees a bit too hard and spilled the water everywhere. Jake watched me do it, and got a real kick out of it, laughing like a hyena.

But I didn't let myself get discouraged. I was making progress, and I had learned my lesson: this time, I waited for that idiot Muller to use the bathroom before I made the attempt, grabbing the can from my bedside table.

It had already been several days now since I came out of the coma, opening it should be a breeze. In the BSAA, they taught us how to pull the pin out of a grenade with our teeth, a coke was nothing compared to that. And I pulled it off like a pro. Using thumb and my forefinger, and my wrist to hold it in place, I opened my first can of coke since the amputation. One step closer to independence!

Bad luck, it must have been shaken up before I opened it, because it began to overflow, which I unfortunately hadn't foreseen. I had screwed up and made a mess yet again.

“Goddamnit!” I swore reflexively.

I wish I hadn't. Muller heard me and came out of the bathroom. Half naked, toothbrush still in his mouth, he took one look at me and broke out in laughter.

“Seriously Nivans, thanks. Thanks for providing my daily entertainment! I'd have a lot less laughs over here without you around! Who needs the TV when I’ve got you?”

“Quit your guffawing, Muller. Having your coke overflow is something that could happen to anyone.”

I mean, the soda would have made a mess even if had both of my hands. It wasn't- it wasn't… oh what's the use, I couldn't do anything besides feel stupid and handicapped.

“Hey man, but I'm not laughing at you,” he replied, still chuckling all the while like a big baboon.

As a result of his laughing at my expense, he had shaken his toothbrush all around and sprayed both toothpaste and spit all over the floor. But for him there was no shame, he wasn't an amputee.

He reached an arm into the bathroom and grabbed a towel that he prepared to throw to me.

“If you could see your face right now! Priceless! Here, catch, before I take a picture and send it to Redfield.”

I wiped off what I could off my face and my t-shirt. When I looked back up, Jake was still standing there, no longer laughing. He leaned against the doorframe, regarding me pensively.

“Don't worry, it's all good, Two-Face.” he said, pointing his toothbrush towards me. “Just a week ago you didn't even dare to try. That's progress.”

Then he went back into to the bathroom. I smiled. It's true, I had my ups and downs but overall, I was making progress. I was starting to adapt, and even my morale was doing better. I was getting used to living missing an arm. The doctors had offered to fit me with a new prosthesis but I refused. I didn't need one, I would get by without it. It reminded me too much of the J’avo arm.

As for my face, I had a bit more trouble getting accustomed, I still avoided seeing my reflection in the mirror as much as I could. But Chris, Jake and Sherry had ultimately made me understand that they didn't care what I looked like at all. They had accepted it a lot better than I had. Even the hospital staff weren’t bothered, I never saw anyone make even the slightest grimace. The outside world, on the other hand, that would be something else entirely. But at least for now, my life came down to our one floor of the hospital.

The TV was on nearly 24/7 in our room, Jake sat in front of it nearly all the time. Since he wasn't allowed to get up, he watched all the dumbest programs. Did people honestly not have better things to do with their lives than to sign on to expose their boyfriend’s infidelity on cable television? Did people truly want hard evidence that somebody really didn't- Bah, in any case it was as mindless as it was endless. When I started to have laugh tracks, tv theme songs, and commercial jingles coming out of my ears, I went into the exercise room next door. Since we were the only two patients on the entire floor, it was always empty except if one of us was using it. There I could clear my head and start getting back into a training routine. You never know, the BSAA could still want me. I didn't have high hopes, but as I had yet to receive any news on that front, I let myself believe that there was still a chance.

Each morning, we were woken up early by a nurse who came to do a checkup and some tests on Jake. As soon as she left, Jake turned on the TV and we fell asleep during the morning cartoons. Thankfully they hadn't filtered into my dreams; I think I've had enough underwater nightmares that I have no desire for any nautical nonsense to permeate my subconscious. In the evenings, we watched movies that he pirated. It was our routine.

The other day, he had wanted to watch _The Dark Knight_. When Harvey Dent first appeared on the screen after half of his face had been burned off by acid, I knew right away there was no escaping my fate:

“Hey Nivans, look! You're on TV!”

“Bravo Muller, I didn't see that one coming.”

From that moment on he took to calling me Two-Face. At the beginning it got on my nerves, but I got used to it. Though truth be told I didn't have much of a choice.

“I don't know why you're upset, Two-Face is a total badass! Will you quit sulking if I say that you're way less ugly than he is? And hey-o! Y'know, he could bang Batman if he wanted to, for sure. I'll bet if you go on the internet there's a ton of…”

Chris came in at that moment.

“Look who it is!” greeted Jake, “Hey there, Batman! We we just talking about you!”

Chris looked at us both, perplexed, and I had to hurry to change the subject.

Jake was fascinated with my feelings for Chris. At times, it bordered on obsession. He spent his time watching us, dissecting the smallest movements and gestures, interpreting the signs and evaluating my chances to ‘bang’ him. He also made innuendos that Chris didn't seem to get but caused me terrible anxiety. It was tiring, and often got on my nerves, but on the other hand I ended up giving up trying to hide or even downplay my feelings for Chris in front of my roommate. Yes, I was deeply in love with Chris, and it was nice to not have to pretend otherwise all the time.

And besides, Jake was on my side in this. He hatched up plans that were crazy, stupid, and often hilarious to get Chris to fall in my arms. Muller had too big of an imagination and too much free time it seemed, and he certainly watched too much bullshit on TV.

Even though I would have killed him if he had tried to put any of his plans into action, deep down it made me dream. Chris was just so perfect, he was so kind to me through all this! He came to visit every day, he had lunch with me… I hoped that he was doing all of it out of friendship, and not out of guilt. Friendship, that's great. Despite Muller’s disbelief, I really couldn't ask for more.

The relationship between Jake and my captain had seemed to improve somewhat. Things were always tense between them, but they tolerated each other's presence well enough, and no longer came to blows over a sideways glance. It was evident that despite Jake and his rotten attitude, Chris was trying.

For example, there was the matter of food: the stuff from the hospital was horrid, like in all hospitals, and Chris had decided to bring me a meal every day, which was absolutely amazing. Chris cooked remarkably well; he explained that he had had to learn when he was young in order to take care of his little sister. Every time he brought something, the whole room smelled of a delicious, home-cooked meal. Jake groused because he wasn't allowed to eat, it was a bit like torture for him. Lately however, the mysterious experiment that they were conducting had produced some results and so he was finally permitted to eat. Since then, he hadn’t complained at all about it. He ate his meals that tasted like plastic silently in his corner, or maybe he didn't actually touch the food because it was disgusting and on top of being a pain in the ass, Muller was really picky.

One day I felt sorry for him with his plate of chemical-tasting beets, so I passed him a bite of steak. He began stealing bits from my plate ever since. Chris didn't say anything, I hope he wasn't hurt. But little by little, the meals that he brought grew bigger and bigger, it was clear that he took Muller into account. Finally, he ended up bringing an entire extra plate for him once and for all.

I thought that was really great of Chris. Mature, wise, kind, I was captivated. Chris is a guardian. Even the people he doesn't like, he does well by them. He feeds the children of his enemies. There isn't a better man alive on this Earth.

Jake had accepted it without any sarcastic retorts, for once. He even managed to say thank you, in his own way:

“Redfield, when I get out of this hospital, I'm buying a palace and hiring you as my personal chef. I'll pay you better than the BSAA.”

Chris had responded with a biting remark, but just after he had shot me a smile. He was amused by it, that was a first.

Chris preparing meals for Jake also came as a relief for Sherry. Right after Jake was allowed to eat again, back when he was still picking at the unidentifiable mush on his plate, Sherry, trying to be a model girlfriend, had promised him that she'd bring him a homemade lunch the next day. Sure enough,she came with a nice dish prepared the next day. I think she had gone to quite a bit of trouble in making it too, but Jake didn't seem to notice. After taking a bite, he spit it all out.

“Blech! That's disgusting! Did you cook with spoiled ingredients or what?”

Surprise, Sherry had tried it and liked it.

“I didn't think it was that bad,” she tried.

“Are you serious? I even prefer the hospital food to this!”

Sherry had laughed and packed the food back up, smiling self-consciously. What did Jake expect? She had grown up in a lab, hospital food was probably what she had known for years. I tasted it as well, and assured her that it wasn't that bad, but Muller just piled it on:

“Don’t lie to her Two-Face, Sherry's a big girl, she can handle the truth!”

Yes, but no. Sure, Sherry was a level- headed girl. She was an excellent government agent, she was a great fighter and she was able to keep her cool better than most of my former alpha team. But Sherry was also someone who never stopped second-guessing herself. She always worried about doing something wrong, or looking dumb, or failing everything and everyone. Didn't her boyfriend realize? Because he just destroyed a bunch of her self-confidence right there.

But that was just Jake. He was mean, but not out of malice. He didn't do it on purpose. He didn't care that Sherry didn't know how to cook, he truly loved her. But he was incapable of letting her know in any way besides by making fun of her. It was his way of being, he didn't have enough confidence in himself either to try and be someone better. You couldn't take it personally. But sometimes that was easier said than done. Especially for someone like Sherry, who already had the tendency to underestimate herself.

Sherry didn't say a word, she just kept on smiling. It was her nature to avoid conflict. But after that she didn't bring him anything other than KFC, which Jake welcomed with much greater enthusiasm.

**Claire:**

When it comes to family, honestly… there are definitely times where I'm glad that mine isn't very big, otherwise I'd never catch a break from running after them.

Chris was waiting for me in arrivals, acting totally innocent, looking happy as a clam. I had just spent the last six hellish months combing ruined buildings and laboratories filled with monsters in the far reaches of eastern Europe in search of him, while here he was just chilling. Six whole months without a single word from him. Oh boy was he gonna get it!

He deserved a high kick in the chest à la Claire Redfield, but instead I gave in to my little sister instincts: I jumped up and clung on to his neck.

“Chris!”

He spun me around like a little girl.

“Claire! My god am I glad to see you again! I was scared that you wouldn't make it back!”

He set me back down. Now that the initial euphoria of being reunited had passed, the arguing began.

“I think I'm the one who should be saying that,” I replied. “You nearly gave me an ulcer, I was worried sick! I looked for you everywhere, it's been more than six months that I didn't receive any news from you!”

He raised his voice:

“You think I wasn't scared? I can't believe you would go look for me in Edonia! You're a civilian, Claire! You shouldn't be taking dangerous risks like that, I've told you a million times!”

“I'd take less of them if you disappeared less often! And you can drop the hero act, Chris, I lost sleep for six months because I thought I had lost you, and you were worried about me for what, a week and a half? Because the rest of the time you had forgotten my existence?”

Over the phone he had explained that the reason for his long silence was that he had temporarily lost his memory during that time. That was the lamest excuse I've ever heard.

We stared each other down for a few seconds, and then we both cracked, falling back into each other's arms as we laughed. I would have liked to continue yelling at him a bit longer to really give him a piece of my mind after the nightmare he had put me through, but seeing how guilty he looked I just couldn't. To think, that I believed him dead! I could feel the tears in my eyes, but crying in front of my big brother? Out of the question!

“Is it just me or have you gotten even bigger?” I observed, poking an accusatory finger to his bull-sized chest.

He caught my wrist and put me in an arm lock.

“Is it just me or have you gotten even more annoying?

“Owowow! Okay okay, I get it! It's all just muscle!”

He let me go, laughing as he did so. He grabbed my backpack and we headed off towards the car.

“You drive?” he asked me, tossing me the keys. “I'm a bit worn out.”

Worn out? He had been drinking, he meant. The interior smelled like alcohol. Whiskey at three in the afternoon, that wasn't a good sign. I watched him. He was smiling, he was truly happy that I was there, no doubt about that. But underneath that were tired features and a furrow in his brow that hadn’t been there before.

“Will you tell me everything that's happened?” I asked gently as I started the car.

We hadn't really been able to say much over the phone. All that I knew was that Chris had run into Sherry, that she was doing well, and that something had happened to his lieutenant. I was going to need more details.

I parked in front of our place. Yep, Chris and I live together, just two old siblings that are still single. No shame. In fact, he was stationed at the barracks with the BSAA most of the time; he only returned when he was on leave.

I went to take a nice, long shower while Chris made me a sandwich, then we sprawled out on the sofa to catch up. We had plenty of things to tell each other and unfortunately, not everything was all sunshine and rainbows. Chris began by explaining what had happened to his lieutenant, Piers Nivans, who was in a state beyond critical after having saved his life. I told him to start from the beginning, otherwise I'd be lost. So he recounted how the mission in Edonia seven months ago had gone wrong and he had lost his entire team at the hands of a horrible woman named Ada Wong. I raised an eyebrow.

“Ada Wong?”

Wasn’t that the name of the woman who Leon’s been crazy about for fifteen years and who he never managed to hold on to? Was he aware that she was working for the bad guys?

Well anyway, this Ada Wong had infected my brother’s entire team, just a couple boys who hadn't done anything wrong. Chris had no recollection of how he had been able to make it out of there, but when he woke up in a public hospital, he didn't remember anything. Who he was, what he was doing there, it was all gone. The only thing that stayed with him in his memory, was the feeling that life was an absolute bitch.

He had snuck out of the hospital and wandered all about like a hobo for months. His lieutenant ended up finding him and dragging him back to the BSAA by force until his memory returned. Rather heroic of him, I have to say.

I had already met Lieutenant Nivans on two separate occasions in the past, and to tell the truth the memories I had of him weren’t very pleasant. The first time, I had gone to meet my brother over coffee since he had two hours that he was off duty, and Nivans was there. I strongly suspect that Chris had arranged that meeting with the aim of hooking us up together and I hadn't appreciated that at all.

First of all, who was he to meddle in my love affairs? If there's one person on this planet whose love life is even more screwed up than mine, it'd definitely be Chris. (Though Leon comes pretty close as well.) Ever since he and Jill had broken up I don't know how many years ago, he hasn't had a single serious relationship. How about he finds himself a date first, before tricking me into going on blind dates!

Second of all, if you're going to try and find me a guy at least get one that doesn't scowl all the time. Piers must not have expected it either, to find himself on the end of someone's half-baked matchmaking plan. But whereas I at least respected the rules of basic courtesy, he clearly couldn't be bothered to make an effort. He spent the whole time looking down at his watch, checking his earpiece, and grumbling. _Captain, we shouldn't be here, you're going to miss the meeting._ No fun at all.

During that failed blind date, he seemed genuinely angry- hurt, even. Ok sure, I wasn't thrilled that Chris had shoved us together like that either, but no need to lose your shit about it. And besides, as Chris’ lieutenant, shouldn't he be flattered that his captain was trying to set him up with his sister? So it was hardly worth looking at me so coldly like that, I didn't ask to be there! It was all Chris who had cooked up this harebrained scheme!

And third of all, wee little Nivans was almost ten years younger than me. So thank you kindly big brother, but I'm not nearly desperate enough to try and pick up my dates from the playground.

What Chris doesn't know, nor anyone else for that matter, is that guys who are younger than me, even just by a little, even if they're older but look younger, I can't do it. It terrifies me. I'm too afraid to see them die in my arms. Ever since… ever since Steve, really. We weren’t together, I wasn't even in love with him, I found his attempts at flirting pathetic and was trying to find a way to let him down gently… But he was seventeen years old. Only seventeen, damn it!

His death had been my first big shock. That was years ago now, but part of me would never be able to get over what happened.

But back to the topic at hand. That weird date with Nivans left a rather bad impression of him, one of a guy that was standoffish, rude, and well, overly possessive of my brother. But I came to see him a second time, under much more dire circumstances: it was seven months ago, when he turned up at my door to inform me that Chris had been reported missing.

“What do you mean, missing?” I had stammered.

I had needed to sit down. He explained that their mission in Edonia had taken a bad turn, that they had suffered numerous losses but that they hadn't recovered the body of my brother and consequently he was without a doubt still alive.

Hey, now that I think about it, he had lied to me, the little bastard! Chris hadn’t disappeared during the course of the mission, he had escaped from the hospital, and Lieutenant Nivans had been fully aware. If what I had just learned was anything to go by, he was undoubtedly the one who had brought Chris there. If I had had that information, I wouldn't have gone to try and look for my brother in the ghastly ruins of his mission, but rather amongst the towns in the surrounding area. No wonder I couldn't find him! Basically, I had ended up taking a lot of unnecessary risks.

According to my brother though, Piers had probably said that to cover him. Chris would have effectively found himself court martialed for desertion if the truth had gotten out. So I forgive him, and I'm grateful to him for protecting my dear big brother. He couldn't have known that I would take up the search myself.

That day, I had seen a totally different side of the lieutenant than the time before. He held the presence of a soldier, serious and determined.

“Don't you worry, Ms. Redfield, a team is sweeping the region as we speak. I'm returning to Edonia first thing tomorrow morning to lead the search. Your brother is alive, I know it. I promise you that we'll get him back.”

He had kept his word, Chris was sitting right there, as living proof.

“And then what happened?” I asked.

Chris then told me that he had regained his memory in China, right in the middle of the mission. I spit out my water when he casually mentioned that he had met and saved Wesker’s son.

“WHOSE son?”

“Wesker’s. Yeah, I found it bizarre as well. His name is Jake Muller, he's twenty years old, and better that you know up front that he and Sherry are a couple.

“WHAAAT?”

I needed to talk to her, now. Chris could wait, I grabbed my phone and called Sherry immediately. As I listened to the dial tone, my thoughts were racing, I couldn't believe it. Hadn’t I told Sherry about the time Wesker had thrown me on the ground and WALKED ON TOP OF ME?! Or the time that he grabbed me by the hair? Or the time that he had nearly dislocated my jaw with a kick while I was on the floor? Fuck me, always trying to protect her, and here she is flirting with the enemy.

“Hello?”

“Sherry? It's Claire.”

“Claire? You're back? How are you? Chris and I were really worried about you! Are you in town? I have a ton of things to tell you!”

“Sherry, about…”

“Guess what? I met a guy, his name’s Jake, I'm a little worried how you might react because he's Albert Wesker’s son but he's really a good person, he saved my life several times, and he saved the world, too! I'd love for you to meet him!”

That was just the way Sherry was. She had an innocence about her that was absolutely disarming, nobody could say no to that. Because Wesker’s kid or not, I was dying to meet the lucky guy that had caught my darling Sherry’s attention. Instead of reproaching her like I had planned, I invited her to dinner at once so she could tell me all the details.

She arrived around 7 o'clock, just coming back from the military hospital. In the meantime, Chris had finished telling his story. Basically, he and Nivans had run into Muller and Sherry completely by chance, and then they crossed paths again six months later completely by chance again. And then finally, the four of them met up again in an underwater oil facility operated by Neo-Umbrella. Again, completely by chance. Well okay, the last time my brother went to look for them voluntarily, but it was completely by chance that Sherry had come into contact with Leon in China, who then passed on to Chris that she was down there, so it still counts.

What an insane story! And now, they were all more or less buddies, except for my brother and Wesker Jr., which hardly surprised me. But even though Chris didn't appear to like him, he talked about him with a fair bit of tolerance, and genuinely seemed to trust him. That made me feel better about Sherry’s choice.

When Chris got to the part about his lieutenant, I nearly felt my heart in my throat. There was something wrong with this guy. I mean, ripping off your arm is extreme, but in a desperate situation I could understand. If I had to tear off my arm to save Chris I know I would have done it. But inject myself with the C-Virus? Not that. I couldn't have done it. I'd rather die than become a monster. He was messed up in the head. Poor Chris, he must feel so guilty about it.

I find it horrible when people want to protect us at all costs. Like Steve. They throw themselves in front of bullets for you while all you can do is watch helplessly as they die in front of you. Try having a normal life afterwards with something like that on your conscience.

Well at least the lieutenant had made it out alive, and he had saved my brother. It could have been a thousand times worse.

I hugged my sweet little Sherry as she came through the door. Every time I saw her she looked even cuter than before. She was absolutely beaming when she talked about Jake Muller, and I didn't have the heart to say anything the least bit negative. After all, Sherry’s father was more or less an enemy of humanity as well, and yet his daughter turned out to be an angel. So who's to say that Jake wouldn’t be a better man than his father was? He had saved the world and given his antibodies to create a vaccine, that was already a good start.

We spent an excellent evening together, the three of us. Chris made dinner, we drank a bit, we had fun. There was no end to the praises that Sherry sang about Jake Muller, while Chris countered that she wasn't to be believed, that he was an absolute pain in the ass. That only made me want to meet him even more, to form my own opinion. He and Nivans shared the same room at the hospital, which worked out nicely. I also wanted to thank the man who had saved my brother. We let them know we’d all be coming to visit them the next day.

Sherry was a bit tipsy, so we unfolded the futon to let her spend the night and sleep here. I say sleep, but since I wasn't tired at all from the time difference, and since Sherry had just so many things that she wanted to tell me, we stayed up all night instead, chatting, laughing, trading jokes, even starting a tickle fight and generally having a grand old time.

At five in the morning, Chris got up to scold us like schoolgirls at a slumber party.

“That's enough now, girls! Some people are trying to sleep!”

I love it. This is my family.

I threw a pillow at his face. He caught it looking a little dazed, and since Sherry and I were twisting in laughter, he started laughing as well. I think that we were more than a bit tipsy, we were full out trashed. But I didn't care. I love making my brother laugh, it was worth it. Because with his line of work, and with his lieutenant left in ruin on his account, he didn't get to laugh very often.

Later that day, Chris dug us up sometime to go on our visit to the hospital. Once in the car, Sherry and I fell back asleep almost immediately, one on top of the other. But right as my eyes slowly slid shut, I could see my brother smiling softly back at us in the rearview mirror before the rumble of the engine lulled me into a peaceful slumber for once. Our little family was back together again.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go!  
> You just read the first chapter without Jake’s POV! Yes, I know, it's sad, I'm sad too, especially since I made a big effort for Chris’ POV but it just can't be helped, I always find it too heavy.  
> I hope that you guys liked Claire! I tried to respect what I know of her personality but it isn't easy since we haven't seen her since Code: Veronica (at least that I know of) where she was 19 back then and she's 34 now. So I tried to make her someone who's full of positive energy because that's kind of how I saw her, I hope that's okay with everyone! Claire's the first character that I knew (in RE2) and she's also my favorite character. I love writing her POV!  
> Thank you so so much for the reviews! In the next chapter, we'll be back to more of Jake’s POV!  
> 
> 
> _Translator’s note:_   
>  _Give it up for everybody’s other favorite Redfield, Claire! I personally like how positive and determined she’s portrayed, but keep in mind that this story was also written before RE: Revelations 2 came out, so we do in fact know more of her personality since then. I think we see a lot more of how she’s been affected by the machinations of the villains in the RE universe, and she’s probably a bit more somber, but she remains fiercely protective of the people she cares about and manages to hold it together enough to get out of that ordeal alive. So I’d personally say that the author did a pretty good job with keeping her in character, but let me know what you think! And as for the discrepancies with the canon… well, let’s pretend that we haven’t played Re:REV2 for that, okay? :D_


	7. Chapter 7

**Post-injection 7.**

**Claire:**

The research center and hospital complex were super isolated. In order to simply visit a patient there were four security checkpoints to pass through. Strange for a hospital, even more so considering how few people were actually inside. Apart from the researchers and the hospital staff, I didn't come across a single person. Muller and Nivans seemed to be the only patients.

It was exactly eleven o'clock, the time that visiting hours were open. Chris knocked on their door and then entered straight away. Sherry and I followed after.

In the bed closer to the door I recognized Lieutenant Nivans despite his changed appearance. In the one closer to the window, a young man who had to be Jake Muller was watching TV. We all greeted each other a bit awkwardly.

“Piers,” asked Chris to start, “you remember my sister, Claire.”

“Of course,” murmured Nivans half-heartedly. “Good morning, Miss Redfield.”

His first response was to avoid eye contact with me, but he caught himself and looked me straight in the eyes, almost defiantly. Chris had warned me that I would be his first contact with the outside world besides him and Sherry, and that Piers had a hard time accepting his appearance. As such, Nivans looked a bit discombobulated and ill at ease when he had seen me come in. I didn't think my presence there made him very happy, on the contrary. I could understand why, given that we had little in common, but I didn't feel the same way at all on my part. To tell the truth,

I was absolutely overcome with emotion.

I hadn’t understood the weight of his sacrifice until I saw it before my eyes.

Physically, it was okay, I had seen worse. Chris and Sherry had made it sound like he was covered in horrifying mutations, but Steve had been worse. At least here, the man I saw in front of me was alive, and above all he still retained the gleam of humanity in his eyes. Did my brother realize how lucky he was that his lieutenant hadn’t lost himself? That was the most important part. It mattered a lot more than an arm and a face. It mattered more than being alive, even. There's nothing more horrible than to look someone you love in the eyes and to find nothing human there. I’ve been there, I know.

Don't go there, Claire. Back to the present.

On top of the patch of mutated skin that covered part of his face, Lieutenant Nivans seemed really frail. The right sleeve of his t-shirt had been stapled shut and he seemed to be fighting the tendency to cradle his remaining arm close to his chest. He looked so vulnerable and lost like that, so unsure of himself and yet wanting to show that he was strong, that it stirred something deep in my gut. My maternal instincts. Just like when I first found Sherry, and when I realized that Steve had serious abandonment issues.

I went to Piers and I took his hand in both of mine. You're great, I wanted to tell him. You saved my brother. You're wonderful. No scars could tarnish that, you're the most beautiful person I've ever met.

He had dragged my big brother out of an exploding building (and Chris weighs more than 220 pounds, mind you), he had covered for him in defiance of military protocol, then he had gone and brought him back from the bottom of a seedy bar at the ends of the earth and restored his memory. And that wasn't it. That was just the beginning.

It wasn't insane after all, what he had done. It was sublime.

“You kept your promise, Piers,” I articulated to him, my voice laden with emotion. “You brought my brother back to me alive. Thank you. I'll never forget that.”

His sullen look seemed to disappear. Given that things hadn’t been the smoothest between us in the past, he must not have expected this sudden display of tenderness.

“I was only doing my duty,” he responded, a bit shaken.

I smiled, moved by his modesty. What I had taken for his distrust and animosity was really just shyness and a lack of self-confidence that was almost touching. I finally saw why Chris liked him so much.

I took a seat on his bed. I wanted to wrap him up on a big hug like a little kid, give him a kiss on each cheek, both the normal one and the discolored one. But we weren't that close, it would look bad. I settled instead for placing my hand on his knee and giving him a big smile before turning to the neighboring bed.

Jake Muller the Terrible, son of Wesker and boyfriend of my charge, had the same steely eyes as his father. Fortunately, he didn't possess the cold and dangerously charismatic side of our enemy that had brought the world to its knees. It was clear that Muller was still young, despite his scar and his shaved head.

At the moment he was determinedly trying to ignore me by watching TV. I gathered all my wits to try and smile at him. It wouldn't do to upset my dear Sherry seeing me disapprove of her boyfriend.

“So you're the big bad wolf, then?”

He shot me a glance out of the corner of his eye before turning back to the television.

“That's right. And which of the three little pigs does that make you?”

Oh brother, no! Chris had warned me that this guy had a lousy sense of humor. Sherry began to tell him off, but I couldn't help but laugh. What an awful joke!

“Claire Redfield,” I introduced myself, offering my hand. “Nice to meet you. I'm Chris’ sister and also Sherry’s surrogate big sister.”

He shook my hand begrudgingly. 

“Jake Muller.”

We were all settled in now. Sherry sitting on Jake's bed, me on Piers’, and Chris in the armchair across from us. We made introductions, got to know each other a bit. I have to say, neither Piers nor Jake were very friendly towards me at first. Piers was definitely trying, but he was pretty nervous. In order to avoid putting him on the spot I hung back a bit in the conversation, and as a result of my observations I suddenly had a revelation:

Lieutenant Nivans wouldn't happen to be just a bit totally in love with my brother, by any chance, would he?

I can't say exactly at what moment it clicked in my head, maybe an odd inflection in his voice, or quite possibly seeing the panicked expression he had had for about a second after a barely concealed innuendo from Muller. In any case, it now seemed like a piece of evidence supporting that theory, and the more I thought about it, the more I was sure of it. All one had to do was see how he looked at Chris, right now. Like he was nervous and paid attention to every gesture, every word.

And looking back, everything seemed to make sense, from his bad mood during our arranged coffee date two years ago to injecting himself with the virus a month ago.

It just broke my heart. Poor guy.

It's wonderful to fall in love, but he didn't have a chance, my brother is straight. And what's more, Chris had told me that his lieutenant came from a military family that was very religious and very strict. That couldn't have been easy for him.

Seeing how tightly Piers kept his jaw clenched, I was certain that he would never confess. That hurt even more, the prospect of him keeping it secret and never being able to express his true feelings. How long had he been in love? Two years? Three? More than that? How much longer would he go on without ever saying anything?

The saddest part in all this is that Chris is totally lost when it comes to love. He would never notice anything, short of having the proof shoved directly in his face. Piers had torn off an arm and injected himself with the C-Virus to save the man he loved, and he wasn't even aware. It was cruel.

I took his hand again, and repeated one more time, in a hushed voice,

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, for saving my big brother.”

“Really, Claire, it's nothing.” he responded, a bit embarrassed. “Let's just drop it.”

The others were busy talking amongst themselves, they wouldn't hear us.

“Chris can be pretty dumb sometimes,” I whispered to him, “but you really mean so much to him. So much.”

He blushed, and then withdrew his hand. I think he knew that I knew. I said nothing more, I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

Oh, but how happy Chris could be!

Sherry called out to me and I got pulled into the conversation happening over on their bed. We unwrapped the meals that my brother had cooked for the five of us the night before and we all ate together in front of the TV. We flipped through the channels for a bit before finally landing on the end of an episode of the Simpsons. Jake, Sherry, and I quickly lost the thread of the conversation, absorbed instead in watching the show like a bunch of dimwits. I've watched the Simpsons since I was a kid, I knew this episode by heart and so did Jake and Sherry. Nothing brings our generation together like good ol’ reruns.

Chris took the opportunity to address his lieutenant:

“By the way Piers, there's something that I have to talk to you about. Can you follow me to the hallway?”

“Of course.”

They got up and left us to the Simpsons. At the end of the episode, Jake seemed to wake up out of a daze, like he suddenly recalled who he was and what he was doing, immediately turning cold and mistrustful of me again. This boy was just a young adult that was unsure of himself underneath that tough guy act, but he wasn't a bad guy.

The moment that I began to really like him was when I heard him call Sherry “Supergirl.” That was really awesome.

Unfortunately, he was also as jealous as they come. When Sherry told him that she had spent the night at my place, he took it poorly. I think he was afraid that she preferred hanging out with me to him, something like that. The thing that he didn't get was that Sherry was my little sister, my baby, my princess. I don't mind sharing her, but he couldn't have her to himself. He was not off to a good start for being in a relationship if he couldn't stand his girlfriends’ friends.

What's more, apart from the whole thing with Sherry, there was something like a childish hostility that he bore towards me and my brother. Like he was convinced that we hated him and so he hated us as well. I asked myself what could possibly have led him to believe that.

It wasn't exactly rocket science, once I thought about it.

“Tell me, Jake, what have you been told about your father?”

**Jake:**

Claire Redfield. Before meeting her, I had imagined some kind of female wrestler with thighs the size of the tires on a semi. Chris Redfield with longer hair, basically. Brrr. So I at once felt like a dumbass when I saw this little doll of a woman, all smiles, who looked nothing like her hulk of a bro.

Sherry had told me only about fifty thousand times how Claire had saved her in Raccoon City. She spoke of her as if she were the Messiah. It got on my nerves to have to hear all the time. I bet Sherry never talked about me like that. I was really beginning not to like her without even getting to know her. Hell, couldn't Sherry have chosen anybody else as her best friend? One Redfield was already bad enough, but two? Just kill me now!

Two-Face didn’t like her either, this Claire Redfield. At least that's what I thought, until she sat right next to him and began to whisper in his ear! Nivans, you dirty traitor, how could you!

Okay, so she inspired a lot more sympathy with her smile and her affectionate tone, but I wasn't fooled. I was sick of having a Redfield steal the people I care about.

Sherry wasn't too pleased by it, the fact that I wouldn't shut up in front of her bestie. I was sure that she preferred her to me anyways, so I had to. But the more I raged, the more Claire laughed and played nice. It was a losing battle, I didn't stand a chance against that smile. And that just made me even madder, which made my standing with Sherry drop even lower. They had known each other for fifteen years, besides. There's no way I could compete with that, shit!

And then after laying down the charm, Claire went on the offensive: she brought up the subject of my father. Oh boy, here it comes. But really, attacking me about my dad, that was a low blow. It was underhanded and unfair. Especially because she had waited until we were alone with Sherry. Claire Redfield was a devious little bitch, it turns out.

She started by acting all innocent, asking what her dear old giant of a brother had told me about my father.

Evil, evil, and more evil. I had finally accepted that I was the son of an absolute bastard, just great.

That's more or less what I told her, and she smiled.

“Chris took Wesker’s betrayal really hard, but he didn't only have bad qualities.”

“Oh yeah?”

First time I'd heard that. The most flattering thing anybody had said about him so far was that just because I was his son didn't mean that I would turn out as terribly rotten and cruel as he was. Real high praise. But she had piqued my curiosity. Trying to stay cool, I pricked up my ears.

“For one,” Claire began, “he was a pretty good-looking guy.”

Seriously? Why hadn’t anyone ever told me that?

“And then he was quite charismatic. All of his men were ready to die for him. Chris admired him tremendously.”

Hell, I didn't know that, either. I asked her the same question I had with Chris:

“Was he badass?”

Claire's smile widened.

“Super badass.”

She spoke well of my father, or she spoke about his good side, in any case. Sometimes she tripped over the words and sometimes a dark shadow seemed to cross her face. Reading between the lines I got that he had done her wrong as well, but she never mentioned it. I appreciated it. Chris had already traumatized me enough regarding my father for the next fifty years.

I was starting to think that I had misjudged this girl. She might actually be one of those rare people who are truly and profoundly good, through and through. Until now I had only met one other person who fit that category: Sherry. And I thought to myself that maybe the reason Sherry had become so good, so sweet and brave, was actually due to the positive influence of her good friend.

It made feel a whole lot better to hear some positive things about Wesker. The Redfields were orphans, and according to Sherry Claire had been too young when their parents had died to remember them. That's why she must have understood.

If I were a good guy, I could have told her thanks, but you know, that’s just how I am.

“You wanna know a secret?” she asked, lowering her voice.

“Yeah, sure,” I responded, feigning indifference. But she already had me hooked. C’mon, give me something to work with, some blackmail material, anything.

“Wesker gave Chris a good beating when they were younger. And without even breaking a sweat. That's why Chris holds ill will against him, besides the fact that he took his betrayal really hard, since Wesker was his first captain when he signed up with STARS.

Hey, nice of Redfield to keep that little detail from me as well. I laughed. Thanks dad, for kicking Chris Redfield’s ass before dying. You're still a scumbag, but at least you did one thing right in life.

“Don’t ever tell him I said that, otherwise he might kill me,” Claire whispered.

“Dream on! I'm gonna rub it in his face good as soon as he gets back!”

In just fifteen minutes, Claire Redfield had just won my friendship. Quite impressive, this girl.

“By the way, it's been a while since they stepped out,” remarked Sherry. “What do you think they're doing?”

Sherry and I looked at each other and we shared a laugh. It had become a bit of an inside joke between us, with how much we had debated about the future or absence of the Chris x Piers ship.

“Speaking of which,” asked Claire knowingly, “Is there something I should know?”

Damn, she must have suspected something was up, which means she was clearly smarter than her bro was. She might have been alright in my book, but no way was I gonna rat out Nivans. He had made me promise to keep it a secret, and I might be an asshole from time to time, but I’d never…

“Yes,” Sherry responded, without even batting an eye. “Piers is in love with your brother. And it's not just a little crush, it's ultra-serious.”

I couldn't believe it! Supergirl, you disappoint me. I tried to backpedal a bit:

“Yeah but Redfield doesn't know and Nivans doesn't want him to. So we're keeping it under wraps.”

Claire nodded in understanding.

“Okay. I thought as much. How long has it been going on?”

Neither Sherry or I knew. Personally, I was under the impression that Two-Face had been fantasizing over his captain since the creation of the Earth, but that wasn't the most realistic. In my opinion he fancied him at least since the time that he entered under his command, or maybe even before. Maybe he was the reason that Nivans had joined the BSAA in the first place.

Claire told us the story of how two years ago, she and Nivans had found themselves stuck on a blind date together. We laughed so hard. Jesus, Redfield, what a numbskull! I'm sorry Nivans, but that was just too damn funny.

At that moment Chris came back in, followed by his favorite lapdog. And all at once we stopped laughing. It was all too obvious that we had been making fun of them, but it went right over their heads, the saps. They must not have watched enough teen dramas.

Two-Face was sulking extra hard. Well they certainly hadn't stepped into the hallway to make out, then.

For the rest of the afternoon, Nivans didn't say much else. Once visiting hours were over, after everyone had left, I asked him what happened. He folded in his knees and huddled in on himself, like he did whenever he got depressed or was wallowing in his misery, which is to say all the time, basically.

“I've been kicked out,” he moped.

“Kicked out from where? The BSAA?”

He nodded, looking gloomier than ever. Look out Eeyore, you’ve got some competition.

“Chris gave me the letter. Apparently, they're all very proud of what I've done but they regrettably cannot keep me in service because I no longer fulfill the physical requirements of admission.”

“Yeah, big deal, so what?”

I mean, the day the armed forces take on amputees would be a legitimate reason for concern. Piers shot me a murderous look. Wrong answer, it seemed. I tried to justify myself:

“Don't tell me you seriously thought they were gonna keep you on? You lost an arm, man, what did you think you were gonna be able to do on the battlefield? You can't even wear a backpack!”

“There are ways! I can use a sling bag, I can take up one-handed weapons, all I need is some training. I can work around it, otherwise what was the point of trying so hard?”

He was talking about his day-to-day efforts that I witnessed every day: writing, getting dressed, tying his shoes, cutting his meat with one hand… He never gave up, he hadn’t ever lost hope.

“Hell,” he murmured. “Just another thing in my life that’s…”

His eyes were shining, his sentence left unfinished. Instead he buried his nose in Redfield’s vest like he was sniffing glue.

“Hey, Two-Face, stop that, it's not that bad. There's a ton of people who lose their jobs, it's not the end of the world.”

“It's not just my job, Jake. I'm also losing my weapons and my housing. I don't have a place to live other than the barracks at the BSAA.”

“But what do you do when you're on leave then?”

“I take the chance to go on vacation. To pay rent on a place that I'd only spend 4 weeks a year living at just didn't make any sense.”

And then silence. Boy, things were pretty heavy.

“You don't have any family, any parents?”

“I do, but we're not in touch anymore.”

“Since when?”

He sighed.

“Ever since I got the hell out of the ‘specialist institute’ they sent me to after I told them I was gay.”

Jesus, a shit life from start to finish, then. What was I supposed to respond to that? Something comforting and intelligent, okay, how about:

“No arm, no job, nowhere to go… Man, if we were on a Fox News special you'd end up involved in drugs and prostitution.”

Score, I made him laugh. Not to brag or anything, but yeah, I'm pretty awesome. I’d say I deserved an award in excellence for making Two-Face laugh. His precious Redfield didn't make him laugh as much, I'm sure.

“The BSAA is providing me a pension,” he assured me. “I can set up in a motel when I get out of here. The hospital doesn't want me to leave the state, in any case, and I’ll need to come back regularly for my checkups.”

For some time now, it was apparent that, sooner or later, Nivans would be released from the hospital. He was healed, it seemed. The scientists and doctors didn't agree, but Redfield gave nearly an arm and a leg to get him out of there. I know that no one gave a damn about what I thought, and that it was beside the point, but I'll say it anyway: it was really gonna suck with him gone. There, I said it.

“The thing that I can't stand,” Nivans began again, “is that sooner or later, Chris is going to head back out on a mission, and I'll be stuck here. He'll have a new team, with a new lieutenant… I know you think it's stupid, but it kills me to think that I won't be there to protect him.”

“You've already done enough to protect him,” I responded grimly.

He didn't respond, lost in thought. You don't just rip off an arm for the people you love. What else could he possibly have left to risk?

“Why don't you tell him that you want him to stay here?”

“I can't.”

Of course not, I should've known. Jesus, this totally unbalanced love story really got me worked up sometimes. Chris had it good, he was gonna leave on a mission again without worrying about the guy who sacrificed his life for him and who continued to sacrifice himself every day by saying nothing.

“What if you stayed at his place?” I proposed. The idea had come suddenly to my mind.

Nivans blushed.

“Why would I do that?”

“He owes you that much, at the very least. That way you’ll get to see him every time he's not on a mission, and you’ll get to keep eating his food! And besides, it's the best way to get to bang him, you could go through his underwear drawer…”

“Jake…”

“You could pretend to fall asleep on his shoulder when you're watching TV… or wait wait wait, you could flat out tell him that you’ve got nightmares so you could sleep in his bed!”

“Jake…”

“Aaaaaaand… you could check him out while he's in the shower!”

I didn't get the chance to throw in a wink at the end because at that moment I took a pillow right in the face. I burst out laughing. Nivans had turned all red, kinda like a half-rotten tomato.

“I swear, Jake, you're messed up. Are you in love with Chris too or what?”

“Fat chance. I'm just trying to figure out how to get you laid, is all.”

“Thanks, but that's really not necessary. First, Chris lives with his sister, I wouldn't exactly have free rein to check him out as I please.

“Now, there, I’m sure you could get Claire on your side.”

“...And also, he hasn't offered. I'm not just going to turn up on their doorstep without asking their opinion.”

“Ok well ask them then! They're not gonna say no!”

Even as I said it I very well knew that Piers wouldn't do it. He would rather rot in the gutter, devoured by rats, than ask the guy he loved to accommodate him until he learned how to manage with his handicap. I’d never understand that logic.

But well, that's Nivans. In his romance with Redfield, he gets fucked in every way except the way he actually wants.

Oh how I would love to be able to tell off that son-of-a-bitch captain of his, ‘Get with the program already, Jesus, can't you see that he's in love with you?’ Hell, he didn't seem to notice a thing, I couldn't believe it! I spent my time dropping all the innuendos in the world, throwing him line after line to get him to understand, Nivans nearly had a heart attack every time, and yet Redfield didn't catch a thing! Never have I seen someone as thick as he was.

I wasn’t certain that Piers was exactly happy with him. I could see that Redfield was taking care of him the best that he could; he was holed up here all the time, he brought him food, he gave him his attention and everything, but at times it went too far. He was babying him, honestly. He wants to cut his meat for him, he wants to help him get dressed, he might as well start spoon feeding him, too! And meanwhile, Nivans was working really hard, actually, to learn how to get by on his own.

An example: Nivans could spend an entire afternoon trying to zip up the zipper on his jacket with one hand. He manages to do it, he's all happy, he preens, he thinks his captain is gonna be proud of him when he sees that he's turning it around. Then his captain arrives, and right away, without even giving him have enough time to lift a finger, goes, ‘Aren't you cold? Here, let me get your zipper for you.’

And Piers doesn't say a word about it. He thanks him, that's it. I know that he wants to show Chris what he can do, so why doesn’t he say anything? Why doesn’t he ever say anything to him? Is this love, is that it? It drives me crazy!

Another example: just now, in the hallway, Redfield apparently announced that he had been kicked out of the BSAA. And you know I'm absolutely sure he responded with something like, ‘I understand. It’s alright. I expected as much, and I've got other plans.’ And afterwards, guess who had to deal with the sniveling and the existential crises? Yours truly!

It's not that I'm bellyaching about having to hear Nivans complain, he’s definitely got the right. But he spent so much time playing pretend around Redfield that sometimes I just wanted to bash my head against the wall. The problem, I think, was that he was too much in love, it wasn't healthy. He had to be on alert all the time, he never let down his guard, and Redfield, that birdbrain, never caught on… it stressed me out, okay? They should just screw already and stop getting on my nerves.

However, something that I really noticed about Nivans is that he didn't seem to associate love with honesty whatsoever. He spent his time shamelessly telling lies to his captain. I was shocked when, the day after I had snagged Redfield’s vest, the owner of said vest had asked:

“By the way Piers, did I happen to leave my vest here yesterday? I can't find it anywhere.”

Piers responded without even batting an eye:

“No, I don't think so. I don't recall seeing you with a vest yesterday. But check under the bed, you never know.”

When he left, I pitched my voice up a few octaves to do my best impression of Nivans:

“Oh no, Jake, that's wrong! Give me the vest, I'll return it to my dear, sweet, love-of-my-life captain as soon as he comes back.”

“It was under my pillow,” he ground out coldly. “I wasn’t about to just pull it out and tell him, ‘oh here you go, I had it right there under my pillow because I slept with it!’”

Absolutely Machiavellian. I wouldn't have believed it. But I was happy that he kept it, that vest, because deep down, it had kind of been my gift to him. Too bad his new blanky didn't keep him from having nightmares though.

Speaking of which, I haven't talked about the nightmares. All of us had them. Every other night, Nivans would wake up yelling, and I told him off for having woken me up. The following day, it would be me who woke with a start in the middle of the night, and it was Nivans telling me that I should have seen the look on my face. Sherry didn't wake up yelling or screaming, but the few times that we had been able to spend the night together, she struggled helplessly and called out for help in her sleep with the scared, small voice from back when she was twelve. Redfield… that I don't know about, thank god I've never had to share a room with him. In any case, that guy is seriously so ‘roided up that I'm sure he wakes up every two hours to do some push-ups, or else he'd die of a heart attack.

But day to day, we were doing well. The problems we had were minor, love affairs and unemployment; we were lucky that was the most we had to worry about. Because behind it all, we had all been traumatized. Sometimes when I look at Nivans, with his amputated arm and his two-face that will never heal, I can't help but think that we've been through too much, seen too much shit, that we might as well all just take a bullet to the head. And yet he doesn't give up, Nivans. He keeps his mind on other things, he even affords the luxury of being in love. I, on the other hand, am just a worthless stain in comparison, I haven't even been able to say to Sherry ‘I love you.’

But still, I'm changing. And like an idiot, I’ve gotten attached. So Nivans go ahead and continue to be completely stupid with Redfield, but I'm not letting you end up on the set of Maury to confess in front of a live studio audience how you've slipped into prostitution to pay for your crack.

“Don't worry, Two-Face.” I told him. When I get out of here and I've bought my palace, I'll make sure you get a room overlooking the pool.”

He laughed again, I'm just too good. And then he got up to go to the training room next door. In order to pass the physical fitness tests for admission into the BSAA, you had to be able to do ten pull-ups. Nivans couldn't even reach five anymore, which made him rage. He asked if I wanted to join him, but I found it too disturbing to watch him do pull-ups with just one arm, so I said no thanks. Before he left, I called him.

“Wait!”

“Yeah?”

“Don't take this the wrong way, but… you're my best gay friend.”

I'm not sure why I suddenly had the urge to tell him that.

He returned with a haughty look.

“Given how many people come to visit you here, I think it's safe to say that I'm your best friend, period.”

That dirty bastard! But I laughed. Fair enough. ‘Best friend, period,’ good one!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done!  
> When I talk about these TV shows and channels, I know that I should put the names of American ones since the story takes place in the US, but I don't know them so I used French shows, it's easier that way.  
> It was really nice to get back to Jake’s POV! I hope I didn't run too wild with my joy of getting to write whatever with him :X  
> You know, I'm starting to get a clearer idea of the ending, and I think this fic will end up being around 15 chapters. That's just an estimate, but if it holds true, then that means we're almost halfway done!  
> And when I realized that, I totally freaked out :O ! I hope you guys aren't getting the impression that I'm going around in circles, I swear I'm following the plan that I had imagined from the beginning, it's just going slower than I had imagined. It's not just a bunch of filler because I'm out of ideas (I hope that's not what you guys thought!) I'm FULL of ideas! :D  
> In my head, everything that's happened so far was supposed to be like three chapters… guess expectations aren't always close to reality…  
> And finally, I can never say it enough times: THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS!  
>  _Translator’s note:_  
>  _Another chapter done! I didn't want to change the original author's note here at the end because I wanted you all to get a sense of some of their writing process and how things were going at the time, but there are definitely a few things that I would like to amend now that the entire story has been written and it's being presented in English._  
>  _First of all, as translator of this fic I try to find equivalent substitutions for culture-specific references, especially since the story takes place in the US and I happen to be from there! So if you've noticed some mentions of TV shows that you recognize, then I can say yay! And if you've noticed some vague descriptions that could fit any number of generic shows within a genre, well then all I have to say is oops :X You caught me, I watch very little TV myself so I'm not the most adept at imagining what types of shows Jake might be watching, I'm sorry!_  
>  _As for the forecast for this fic, well you can plainly see how many chapters there are: we're at 7/20. What you might not know though, is that there are some looong chapters later on, so if I had to put a number on it, I’d say we’re closer to a quarter of the way through! Let me know if you guys feel this deserves a tag for ‘slow burn’… XD They’ll get there eventually…_  
>  _And last of all, I would like to thank you all for reading on my own behalf as well! Thank you for leaving kudos, comments, and simply coming to check out this story! You all are the reason I wanted to do this project, so stay tuned and hope you continue to enjoy this work!_  


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dears!  
> This chapter is called: the cursed chapter. First of all, there's no Jake’s POV (I'm sorry! Don't go!) And then, my computer crashed, making me lose my progress, so I had to start all over and fish my draft out of the trash which I hadn’t emptied in forever so it was swimming in some spoiled chili that was there from before I went on vacation. I'm a gross slob but at least I retrieved my draft \o/

**Post-injection 8.**

**Piers:**

Living with Chris. It wasn't the first time that I had thought about it, it had been more than a few years since I had imagined sharing an apartment with my captain. Everything that Jake had suggested was something I had already dreamed about, more or less (except the part about going through his underwear, I still have some sense of dignity).

But realistically, I didn't think it could ever happen. It was the stuff of dreams, a fantasy, and I was just fine with that. Since the accident, I didn't think there was much I could offer to Chris; I wasn't even his lieutenant anymore. Just a handicapped bum.

I had no interest in drinking beer and watching football all day as I waited for Chris to come home and make me something to eat. That's something I'd prefer to do with Jake.

And then there was also Claire. I had a hard time figuring her out, but I think she had guessed that I loved her brother. I hoped that she wasn't going to say anything. She seemed kind and understanding, but Chris had messed things up with her just a bit.

When he had asked me to follow him into the hallway in order to talk, I could see that he was clearly uneasy. He didn't broach the subject of my discharge directly, but led with a topic that he must have thought lighter instead:

“Say, soldier, you seem to get along pretty well with my sister…”

He gave me a big, cheesy wink. That made me beyond angry. I hated, oh how I hated when he did that.

“For the love of God, Captain, you stop this instant! My personal life is none of your concern! You're insulting me as well as your sister. And besides, not once have I seen you with anybody during all the years that I've been under your command, so with all due respect, Captain, mind your own business!”

He was quite taken aback at first, but then he started laughing.

“Ok, my apologies. Message received.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

But seriously! It wasn't the first time that Chris had tried to set me up with Claire, and I couldn't stand it.

“It’s been awhile since you yelled at me,” Chris told me. “Reminds me of the good old days.”

I smiled. He might be slow and dumb, but I can't stay mad towards him for more than fifteen seconds. He just had such a physical effect on me! And there I was already wanting to put everything past us again and cuddle up in his arms. Nothing new.

He held out an envelope to me.

“I was asked to give this to you, on behalf of the board of directors.”

I hadn't tried to open an envelope with one hand yet, it was time that I learned. So I reached out to grab it, but Chris took it back instead, opening it himself then removing the letter, which he unfolded before handing it back to me.

If Jake were there, he would have been furious. He thought that Chris had a tendency to be overprotective with me. I didn't mind, I'd have other chances to learn. It was just easier for everyone, after all. I can't imagine that Chris would rather watch me spend five minutes trying to open an envelope with my teeth.

The letter that he had held out to me was my notice of discharge, but I didn't know it at the time. When I read it, my blood ran cold. Kicked out by the BSAA? Me? I was an elite soldier, the best sniper in my unit! My service record was impeccable!

The BSAA, it was more than just a job for me: it was my home. My family. So yeah, I had lost an arm and was no longer fit to join a commando team, and yes, you need two steady hands to use a sniper rifle and therefore… But…

Well fine, it made perfect sense, but I would never have thought that they would let me go so impersonally. All those years risking my life, and it meant nothing to them. I know well that in the army, in war, you should never bring your feelings into it, but there it was, I couldn’t help it. I love the BSAA. I didn't want to leave it, not now while I was still at the height of my career.

And not to mention Chris, who was going to continue to risk his life and save the world while I lived off of unemployment benefits.

I never asked that Chris love me. I knew it would never happen, he's straight, and I was okay with that. It didn't really bother me if my love was one-sided, I could love enough for us both. As long as I had his presence at my side, his friendship, his respect, it was enough. I didn't even need that much of his attention, since it only took him brushing against me to make my heart race for half the day.

At the same time, I knew that I would have an incredibly hard time watching him leave on a mission without me. To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to stand it. It was something that I had vowed to myself since the beginning of us working together: if I couldn't have his love, then I at least wanted to serve him in return. The almost physical need I had to protect him, I couldn't fight it, as hard as I tried. Like my place on earth was between him and the bullets that came his way. Everything that had happened down there in the underwater facility - Haos, my arm, the C-virus - it made me happy, actually. I was happy to be the one who had been right there with Chris. Not Finn, not Ben, just me and nobody else.

I know that it might seem a bit messed up to think like that, but it was something visceral. The more I loved Chris, the more I realized that it would never be reciprocated, and the more I wanted to give my everything for him. It wasn't a form of emotional blackmail or an attempt to garner his attention, it was more of a… compromise, let's say. I had so much love to give him, to shout from all ends of the world, so much! But I knew that he would never accept it, so I gave him the rest, everything I could: my arms, my career, everything. And it still wasn't enough. I would always have that abyss in my heart that called out to him, that longed for him without end. For Chris, I would re-inject myself with the C-virus tomorrow, without hesitation, if necessary.

But I wouldn't be there tomorrow. And to his next lieutenant, to the next one of his men who died saving him, I wouldn't be anybody to them anymore.

Standing there in front of me, Chris seemed lost. He touched me lightly on the arm.

“Sorry, soldier.”

I straightened up, as quickly as I could.

“It’s okay, Captain. Orders are orders.”

I must not have been very convincing. Chris didn't try to console me with any sort of pep talk, he knew me too well. Instead he told me we'd discuss it further after I had the time to digest. I was grateful, I had no desire to think positively and be rational about it. I just wanted to grumble and complain about it like a sullen child, no way was I going to let Chris see that.

In the end it was Jake who got stuck with it. I didn't end up bringing it up again with Chris after all, I was afraid that he would think that I was worried by it.

Jake was of the opinion that there wasn't much cause to be upset, that I was actually pretty lucky to never have to work again. Personally, I had a hard time seeing it that way though. I needed to work. It didn’t matter what, just something to keep me busy.

Muller reflected on it with me, and after three or four days of reviewing all the jobs we could think of, we came to a conclusion.

“So let me sum things up: you need a job that's not intellectual because you didn't study anything, not physical because you only have one arm, and not social because you're too ugly?”

“I guess I'll apply to be part of the freak show at the carnival then, I can't think of anything else…” I tried to joke.

“Hey but you know what wouldn't be a bad idea though? You could bang the bearded lady, that would be an easy return to heterosexuality!”

I laughed. What a thing to say. I really needed to stop laughing at Jake's shitty jokes, I must be trying to keep from having a nervous breakdown.

“C'mon Nivans, don't think about that anymore. Why don't you go back to school? I'll pay for it myself, you’d only have to ask.”

“I haven't taken classes for years, I'd flunk out.”

“No way. There are plenty of old geezers who enroll because they're afraid of getting Alzheimer's. You just have to major in psych. Anybody with half a brain can take psych, all they do there is talk about sex.”

Major in psych? I'm a sniper, military-minded through and through. I’ve learned how to think like a soldier since I was little.

“Can you really picture me in college, surrounded by 18-year-olds who aren't even aware of the bioterrorist threat?”

“Why not? You're 26, that's not too old to go back. Look, if you want I'll even enroll with you, that way you won't have to do it by yourself.”

What a guy.

“You didn't even go through high school, Muller, do you really think you'll be able to get through college courses?”

“But who cares about classes! We’ll skip them all the time! That's the whole point of college!”

Like with a lot of things, Jake’s idea of college was a bit too heavily based on what he watched on TV. No, Jake, college was in fact not just about going to frat parties every night, playing pranks to vandalize campus property, and sleeping with your TA to make up for your abysmal grades. But at the same time, I could understand that he would want to live a normal life, to go to school and start college like any other kid. And who could blame him, with his deprived childhood?

“Sherry could enroll with us too,” Jake added. “It'd be way better for her than the BSAA. We’d live it up, just the three of us, what do you think?”

For an instant I imagined myself sitting there with Jake and Sherry, enjoying a nice picnic in the grass while studying in the campus quad of a large university. But again, we could dream all we wanted to, but those plans were unobtainable for the simple reason that the doctors didn't really seem to have decided to let Jake go.

I, on the other hand, had my release scheduled for fairly soon.

The doctors had even set a date for it next week. I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Some of the medical researchers were furious, they thought that it was too risky to let me go, but apparently my test results no longer justified me being at the hospital 24/7.

Personally, I didn't quite know what to think. I couldn't wait to get out because I was sick of being cooped up here for a month, but at the same time, the idea of facing the outside world in my current condition was terrifying. Would I be able to deal with it okay? It pains me to admit, but during all this time that I spent in this room trying to get rehabilitated, I felt that I had developed a certain dependence, towards Chris of course, but also towards Jake. Looking past all his digs and his façade of indifference, he had helped me a lot. It would be sad to watch TV all by myself. Even if I was a bit fed up with television, still.

There came a knock at the door. It was Chris. He took a seat next to me and took out a notebook in which he had scribbled a few notes. The day before, I had asked him if he could look up a few motels in the area, so as to not be completely lost when I got out.

“I think I found one that isn't half bad,” Chris said as he showed me his notes. “I went ahead and visited it, it seemed clean and the owners looked like good people. Otherwise there's this one here, it's a bit farther away but it’s cheaper and right next to a bus stop.”

“That sounds good to me. If I can get to the bus nearby, it would make life easier.”

“Yeah, that's what I was thinking. I took some pictures of the rooms, here, take a look.”

He showed me images of five or six different motels on his phone. He really busted his ass for me, it must have taken the whole day to visit all of them. I wasn’t sure why he went to so much trouble, but I was touched.

Jake kept silent the whole time and glued his eyes obstinately to the TV. But it was clear that he wasn't happy about it, and that he was dying to go off about it. Luckily, he held his tongue. This wasn't Tree Hill, where you became an incredibly successful basketball player/music artist/author/fashion designer before the age of 25 after suffering some far-fetched teenage drama at worst. We had to make realistic adult choices, hard as they may be.

“I like this photo. Is this the one that’s next to a bus stop?”

“No, the one with the bus stop is this one here…”

He flipped through several more photos. Truth be told, they were all ugly.

“That one doesn't seem too bad either. Do you have the phone number? I'm going to call them to see if they have any vacancies.”

He patted the notebook.

“Everything's right here.”

I waited for him to hand it over, or at least leave it on the bed for me to peruse later, but he just continued to stare at it, lost in thought.

And then out of nowhere, he looked up and said to me,

“Listen Piers, why don't you come and stay with me, at least at the start? It would be simpler, anyways.”

At first I thought I had misheard. And then I blushed. Jake had seriously made so many dirty jokes regarding me living with Chris that that's where my mind immediately went. Make it look like I was having nightmares to sleep in his bed… Use the pretext of the phantom limb pain acting up to ask for a hug or a massage… Enter the bathroom on accident while he was showering… Cuddle with him while he slept…

No no no, stop thinking about such things! And say something, don't just sit there speechless, like an idiot!

Chris had made an innocent proposal, and I acted like he had made a sexual advance. I had to pull myself together. Especially since he was starting to feel uncomfortable on his part.

“I get that you value your independence and I'm proud of you,” he added hastily, “But you did lose an arm, after all. It would put my mind at ease knowing that you wouldn’t be alone or surrounded by unfamiliar faces your first few days…”

It would put his mind at ease? Oh but it felt so good to hear him say that! I reddened even further, I didn't know what to say, whether I should accept or not. I didn't want to be a bother, if he had only asked because he felt responsible for what happened to me then…

“Thank you Captain, but I wouldn't want to…”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE SAY YES CAN'T YOU SEE THIS IS THE CHANCE OF A LIFETIME?!!”

Chris and I both jumped up, startled. Jake had really shouted pretty loud. We turned towards him, Chris frozen in shock while I tried to remain calm, my heart threatening to beat out my chest.

“What?” Jake questioned, seeing that we were staring at him. “I was talking to the TV, is that not allowed?”

Jake shot a mocking grin my way that seemed to escape Chris’ notice. On the TV, an old geezer with rotten teeth was proposing to a young sweetheart who was only twenty, asking her to stay at his side, to live with him and help manage the farm: milk the cows, drive the tractor, cook and clean, as well as keep the bed warm at night. Followed by a fat laugh and a squeeze of her bottom. And the girl hesitated as her internal narration revealed that she wasn't sure if she was _truly in love_.

Chris would never fall for that! And yet…

“You shouldn't spend so much time watching TV, Jake,” he reproached. “It's not good for your brain cells.”

I let out a breath I hadn't I realized I had been holding. I had nearly been seconds from disaster. Good thing Chris is so… innocent, let's say.

“Is it just me or are you trying to lecture me, Redfield?” Jake replied. “Who do you think you are, my dad? Did Wesker ask you to take care of me before dying in your arms?”

“Quit it,” I told him, immediately annoyed.

Even after all this time, I still couldn’t stand when Muller went after my captain, especially when he played the Wesker card. Jake didn't want to know just how terrible that story was for Chris.

“Woof woof,” came Jake in return, fixing me with a sardonic smile.

I maintained eye contact with him, but I didn't respond. He was furious because he didn't like that I was leaving, I could tell. But what was I supposed to do? I didn't really relish the thought of leaving him all alone there either. Maybe he should have read the fine print before signing that contract.

He got up.

“Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone, I can tell when I'm not wanted. Don't make too much of a mess ravishing each other while I'm gone, okay?”

Jake thought that the best way to keep a secret was to undermine its credibility by joking openly about it at every chance. And the worst part about it was that it worked, Chris just rolled his eyes without suspecting a thing. I, on the other hand, would never get used to it.

Once he was gone, Chris asked again:

“So, what do you say? Stay at my place?”

Now that the initial haze of dirty thoughts had passed, I was able to think about it in earnest.

“What about your sister?”

“Claire told me that if I let you stay in a motel all by yourself, she'd throw me out of the house,” Chris laughed. “On a more serious note though, it's up to you decide. Do what you want. Just know that I don't like the idea of you moving away.”

He didn't like the idea of me moving away. It was the kind of thing he could have said if he were in love with me. And there I go, starting to fantasize again. I thought back to the underwater facility, when he was banging on the glass as he yelled for me to open the door. The despair in his eyes, the anguish in his features. All because he had wanted me to live.

I told him okay, I would come stay with him. He looked truly happy, smiling fondly, and I hoped I would remember that image forever. I crossed my fingers in hopes that everything would go well, that this would last.

And just like that I found myself a week later sitting in my room, waiting for Chris to come pick me up and take me to his place. Jake had given me his last words of advice in the interim, primarily tips on flirting, each one more ridiculous than the last, and often so extreme as to be considered sexual harassment in most places.

“Ready, Soldier?”

Chris stood in the doorway, carrying a sports bag holding the rest of my stuff that had been left in my locker at the BSAA. I got up and said goodbye to Jake, but as I was on my way out he called me.

“Nivans, wait! I wanna tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

He gestured for Chris to wait outside. Once he complied, I was anticipating Jake to give me one last word of his crass advice, like mixing a sleeping pill with Viagra to spike his after-dinner drink, but I was mistaken. As I waited expectantly in front of him he seemed to hesitate, which was rare for him. Finally, he spit it out.

“You’ll come back to visit, right?”

Oh, Jake…

“C'mon, of course I will! I have to come back here once a week to do my check-ups, anyway.”

“Yeah. Your check-ups.”

“I'll come visit as soon as I can.”

I didn't want to leave him here all alone. What was he going to do all day, besides watch TV?

“Yeah, yeah. You and Redfield are gonna bang the first night, and then you'll be too fucked to even remember me.”

“Don't worry, that's not gonna happen,” I laughed.

He gave me a strange look.

“Why do you always say that?” he asked.

We were treading on dangerous ground here, delving into uncomfortable territory that I wasn’t sure I could face right now. Instead I acted like he wasn't serious.

“If I followed your advice, I'd end up in jail!”

He didn't insist.

“Go on then, get. Go find your boyfriend.”

I felt bad leaving. All this time, Jake had been a big moral support for me, but I had never realized that I had been one for him as well. It was going to be hard for him, with me gone.

**Chris:**

Piers followed a few steps behind me, as if he were still my lieutenant. He was wearing a hoodie that I had bought him.

A little before his release from the hospital, I had asked him to write me a list of things that he needed so I could prepare it for him before he arrived at my place. Between his toothbrush and his hair gel, he had put it there, like it was just another thing he needed. But it wasn't, not for Piers. A hoodie, that just wasn’t his style. He was someone who had always paid attention to his appearance, he would never had worn something as baggy and unflattering as that potato sack of a sweatshirt before. I had honestly hesitated to get it for him, but Claire had said that I'd risk losing his trust if I started making decisions for him. But still, to imagine him hiding his face in it like that… it tore at my heart.

At the entrance to the parking lot, a group of civilians stood there chatting, undoubtedly some students interning at the hospital complex. When we passed by them, however, a dead silence fell over them as they stood there gawking at Piers, their conversation forgotten. Piers clenched his jaw and just kept looking straight forward. He made a movement with his arm, agitated yet uncertain, and I thought he was going to put his hood up. I didn't want for him to do that, for him to hide, so I took his hand in mine.

He tensed up, stopping in his tracks. God, I was stupid, he must have thought it embarrassing to hold the hand of another man in public. And yet he didn't let go; in fact he actually moved in closer ever so slightly. I wasn’t bothered, on my part. I was almost going on forty now, I didn't give a damn what others might think of me. And since everything that had happened to Piers, including the lasting effects on his body and face, I wanted to protect him. Especially now that Muller wasn't there to babysit him anymore.

He seemed so frail and vulnerable by the light of day.

We got into the car and headed to the house. Piers was looking out the window, watching the countryside go by. We made small talk, ‘ _So, how’s it feel to see the sunshine after all this time?’_ I was really so glad to have him here next to me in the car, on our way to a home where a nice, warm bed was waiting for him. Piers… God, I could only imagine in what sorry state I'd be in today if he had died down there in the underwater facility. Good to have you back, soldier.

We made a quick detour to pick up Sherry, and then we made it back home, where Claire was waiting with champagne. We were going to celebrate Piers’ release from the hospital all together.

My apartment was a two-bedroom, not too lavish by any means: there was the entrance hallway, the living room that was connected to the kitchen, and then another hallway that led to my room, Claire’s room, and the bathroom. We gave Piers the grand tour nonetheless, since he had only been to my place just once before: the day he had to inform my sister that I had been reported missing.

To have him here under much more pleasant circumstances, it felt nice. After all the hell he had gone through back in Edonia, having to come here to break the news to Claire before returning to search for another six months, it was finally time for me to take care of him, and welcome him properly in my home as my guest. To this end, I had emptied a few drawers from the bureau in the living room for him to store his belongings. As I watched him deposit his things as neatly as he could with one arm into one of the drawers, he looked up and smiled at me. He looked happy to be here. And that warmed my heart.

For dinner, I had planned a whole feast to celebrate. But as I started to get to work on preparing the meal, Piers, who had been chatting on the sofa with Claire and Sherry, offered to help me. And hearing that, Sherry sprang up and nearly begged to let her help as well, so she could try to learn.

I had my serious doubts about either of their culinary talents, and I didn't want them to overwhip the whipped cream I was making, so we settled for making crepes instead. They were relatively simple to make, fun to toss, and oh so delicious. Claire and I had become pros at making them; she had actually been the one to teach me so many years ago, having been inspired by her brief time spent in Paris before her search for me went south. Way south. But the fact of the matter was that we were pretty damn good at making and flipping crepes, and we had a fun time taking turns, showing off our skills. When it was Piers’ turn, he didn't risk tossing them very high, but he did a good job catching them, even with just one hand.

Sherry, on the other hand, was a walking disaster. All of her crepes landed on the floor, in the sink, or on the stovetop. She nearly started a fire with one that happened to fall under the burner. We couldn't help teasing her for it, the poor thing. It's a good thing Jake wasn't there, he would have never let her hear the end of it.

The night went excellently. Truly something special. I had never seen Piers drink before this, and I had to say, I liked the results. He gave me the biggest smiles, he forgot to call me ‘Captain’ half the time, he leaned on me when he lost balance, and he overall acted more boyishly than I had ever seen him in his career, despite him being so young. Nothing at all like the lieutenant I knew. And there, for the first time, I felt like that hell we went through in Edonia and then in China had been good for something. Two months after those incidents, and it finally seemed like we had won.

I also became aware of the fact that Piers had been a lot more worried about me than I had thought, back in Edonia: he wouldn't stop trying to keep me from drinking.

“Chr...C-Captain, dontcha thin’ you… don’t you think you've had enough to drink?” he said, as he downed his fifth glass of champagne.

The girls backed him up and fully agreed with him, knocking back their own drinks like a couple of drunkards all the while. Surprise, I ended up being the only one even remotely sober by the end of the night. Still, not quite enough to drive Sherry home though. She had yet to leave, and we decided it would be best for her just to stay the night anyways. But since Piers had taken up the sofa bed in the living room, she went instead to sleep in Claire's room. Well, sleep was just a figure of speech here. They were more likely going to keep living it up all night. Worse than a couple of teenagers, those two. I expected as much from my sister, knowing her, but surprising coming from Sherry.

After I put Piers to bed and made sure the girls wouldn't bring the house down in Claire's room, I finally made it back to my own room to get ready for bed. Piers had gone to sleep responsibly without making a fuss, and I had repeated to the girls about twenty times not to make too much noise even though I knew they wouldn't listen.

I enjoyed playing the role of big brother like that, even with Piers and Sherry. I know that I had done my best with Claire, taking care of her after our parents had passed, but I also know that I’ve caused her too much worry in the past, if all the times she's followed me into danger to look out for me is any indication. With Sherry so close to my sister and being a victim of both bioterrorism and losing her parents, it was easy to treat her like a little sister as well. And Piers, well- he had been my lieutenant, he had been at my side for Edonia, for China, and for a few years before that even; after everything he had been through, how could I not take him in under my care? But now that he was here, now that he was safe, now that all of them were safe- things would be right again. As I got in bed and let myself drift off into unconsciousness, I smiled, my heart feeling lighter than ever.

 ~~~

The next day, the sound of my cell phone ringing startled me out of bed. As I fumbled to unlock my phone I checked the time. 0600 hours. Who could be calling me at this hour?

Please don't let it be work. God don't let it be work.

“Hello?”

“Captain Redfield? This is the secretary for HQ.”

Nooooooo.

“Due to unforeseen circumstances, the captain in charge of training the recruits is unavailable. As you are on reserve, we need you to come and fill his role today.”

Of course. Time off was never really time off with the BSAA. The closest we had was being put on reserve, which I had just been called out of to lead some training in another captain's stead.

And here I had planned to spend the day with Piers… I hope he wasn't going to be too disappointed.

I had to get to base in an hour. I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, dismayed at the turn of the morning’s events.

Everyone was still sleeping. As I walked to the sink to fill up my glass, I couldn't help but sneak a peek in the living room, where my ex-lieutenant was sleeping. He was completely sprawled out on the sofa bed, which made me smile. It was an uncommon delight, to see Piers so relaxed, like last night when he had had a bit too much champagne, and again now, as he no doubt slept off the effects of the alcohol. And yet, he slept with his fist closed, never quite letting his guard down, even in his slumber. What an adorable little guy, even with the traces left from the mutation he still managed to be charming. It's a shame that he and my sister didn't seem to have chemistry for some reason that escaped me, I would have gladly taken him as my brother-in-law.

I took a seat on the ground next to him, and I studied the remnants of the mutation that covered half of his face. It was far from horrible, honestly. And I wasn't just saying that because it was a result of him saving me. It was just a bit of skin that was a little abnormal, nothing more. Those civilians must have been too delicate of senses if they were freaked out by seeing him in the street. Then again, I might be a bit biased, having dealt with biological horrors every day in my line of work, who knows. The fact remains that for me, it wasn't shocking. It really wasn't a big deal. And same goes for his arm; Piers was learning to get by with it pretty well. Just yesterday, back in the parking lot at the hospital, I had been all ready to open the door to the car for him, but he did it all by himself, got in, closed the door, and put on his seat belt without a hitch. I was impressed.  

There really was nothing he couldn't overcome in his condition.

I didn't want him to wake up to find that I had slipped away like a thief in the night, so I decided to wake him up myself. I brushed his cheek gently with my hand, it was warm to the touch. He smiled in his sleep, and I sat there for a moment, transfixed by the sight.

I thought back to the days of our old missions. Piers always slept like a brick, the guy could have even slept through an earthquake. Whenever we had needed to keep a lookout at night, he always took first watch because nobody wanted the difficult task of waking him. I thought it all too cute about him.

I broke out of my nostalgic reverie, I was going to be late if I continued watching him sleep without doing anything.

“Piers,” I called him, shaking his shoulder lightly, “Hey,”

“Mmmm…” he mumbled in response.

Between my sister who wouldn't go to sleep and Piers who wouldn't wake up, I had my work cut out for me. I shook him again, a bit more firmly this time.

“C'mon… wake up…”

This time, he slowly opened his eyes, the smile still on his face. But when he recognized me, he straightened up as quick as lightning.

“Chris, uh… Captain!”

“Hey, easy there!”

He glanced all around, looking perturbed.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No,” he responded almost immediately.

Well then.

“I didn't want to wake you up, but I got a call from HQ, they need me to come in and train the recruits. I'm sorry, I had really wanted to enjoy my time off today, but orders are orders.”

“Not a problem,” responded Piers.

“You sure?”

He smiled.

“Of course. You have your own life, no big deal. And I'm happy that you stayed in the BSAA. The world needs you. Now go, and don't be late.”

“Okay. I'll be back tonight. If you need anything, don't hesitate to wake up Claire, okay? And in meantime go back to sleep, it's early.”

“Sounds good. Don't go too easy on those recruits.”

He lay back down and brought the covers up over his chin, falling asleep again in no time at all. I ruffled his hair, like I did with Claire when she was little. Sleep tight, soldier.

**Piers:**

I quickly fell back asleep after Chris had woken me up to tell me he was leaving. I wasn’t used to drinking so much and going to bed so late.

When I finally got up again, it was 1100 hours. It was only then that I fully became aware that Chris wasn't there. But it wasn't a big deal. In fact, I was happy that he wasn’t shirking his duties with the BSAA for me. Even if I would have preferred to spend this first day with him, I must admit.

I put away the sofa bed, ate a bit, and walked around the apartment. Claire and Sherry didn't seem to be awake yet. Not surprising considering I had heard them chattering away from Claire's room as I finally fell asleep last night, they must have stayed up gossiping well into the early morning.

I wasn’t really sure what to do with my time. Tidy up? Do the dishes? It wasn't very nice on my part but I didn't really feel like it. I could already imagine the struggle, trying to wash the crystal champagne glasses, handling the delicate wedding gift of Chris and Claire’s deceased parents with one hand. And then, oddly enough, I didn't really have the desire to do all the domestic work as I waited for him to come home, polishing the silver, dusting the blinds; greeting him upon his return with his slippers and the newspaper. That was how my mother acted with my father, and the thought of it made me nauseous. Sure, I want to be useful to Chris, but not like that. I tried to imagine myself like a 50s housewife, smiling cheerfully as I vacuumed the apartment with my one arm, sitting in the spotless living room as I waited for Chris to come through the door saying, “Honey, I'm home!” No thanks. Jake might have been willing to take life advice from television shows with how much of it he consumed, but that was one scenario I didn't want playing out in my life. I think that wouldn’t be good for either of us, me or Chris.

But speaking of television, I supposed that I could always watch something to pass the time. Thanks to Jake, I had the program schedule memorized, and right now it was all paid programming. And yet, I was sure that Jake was in front of the TV anyways.

Poor guy. He wasn't having a very good time over there all by himself, I'm sure. And to think that we had thrown a party without him, drinking champagne and eating crepes while he was there picking at the rehydrated mush the hospital served and watching _Days of Our Lives_.

I could go to see him. I had the whole day ahead of me, after all, I wasn't forced to stay here. The thing was though, out in public, I wasn't sure how it would go. I didn't miss how people were staring at me when we were leaving the hospital.

I waited for another ten minutes or so to see if Claire was showing any signs of life, then I finally decided. I was going to visit Jake. It had been a month that we had spent living together 24/7, his absence left a hole. I need to tell him that Chris had held my hand in public. And then there was the matter of facing the outside world, I'd have to do it sooner or later, I couldn't reasonably depend on Chris and his sister forever.

I wrapped up a few crepes and grabbed the jar of Nutella to go in a bag, then left a quick note to let Claire know where I was going. I took a deep breath and with that, I was out the door.

It was a bit of a walk to the bus stop, I had checked the directions online before heading out. As I walked, I brought down the hood of my sweatshirt as low as I could, keeping my eyes lowered to the ground. That way I wouldn't have to make eye contact with anyone in the street, and that's just the way I wanted it.

I stopped at an ATM on the way there to withdraw some money. It seemed incredible that I was here, able to do something so normal, so banal, even though I was an amputee and had been infected by the C-Virus. Well, it all seemed unbelievable, honestly, most of all that I had been able to walk around in public without inciting a panic. No kids screaming in fear at the sight of me, no riot squad storming in to stop me with gas masks and flamethrowers, nothing. Indifference had never felt so comforting.

And so, bolstered by that revelation, I felt confident enough to step into a corner store. I was going to buy a few things for Jake. Some candy, a pack of beer the latest issue of Playboy. Things he couldn't decently ask his girlfriend to get.

As I started browsing the shelves, the cashier called out to me:

“Excuse me young man, please take off your hood. We need to be able to see your face for the security cameras.”

I didn't like that at all. But fine, I wasn’t about to make a scene in the store. I took off my hood and I retreated to the shelves in the back. The rest of the place was empty. Hell, who did that shrew think she was, a security guard? I mean, she couldn’t have known, but still, it made me uncomfortable. I didn't want her to see my face.

I hadn't done anything wrong, I told myself. I had every right to shop here. If she looked at me funny or commented on my appearance, I'd use the sort of retort that Jake would have suggested, like:

“What, like you've never had herpes?”

I finished my shopping and headed resolutely towards the register with my head held high, even if on the inside I wasn’t feeling so sure of myself.

The cashier went straight to checking out my items, focused on scanning them.

“Thank you, sir. Sorry about the hood, but you understand, with all the hoodlums we've had lately… Oh sweet Jesus!”

With a loud clatter, she dropped the scanner in shock, the hard plastic swinging around and banging against the counter a few times before coming to a rest a few inches above the floor. When the commotion had ceased, a deathly silence settled over the store. She had just laid eyes on my face, no doubt. I didn't have the courage to let loose the comment about the herpes, I was too hurt.

“Could you help me put everything in a bag please?” I asked as coldly as I could.

Her gaze slowly shifted from my face to my lack of a right arm.

“Y-Yes, of course… just a moment.”

She hastened to place my purchases into a plastic bag, plus a second one for the six-pack, and held them out to me over the counter.

“Here you go. Um… sorry.”

I guess that's it. I put my hood back on, took the bags and left without another glance. I was seriously disappointed. It wouldn't be that simple after all.

On the bus, a young girl gave up her spot for me, a priority seat for the handicapped. I sat down without a comment. Hell, here was where I belonged. I was wrong to be upset at the cashier, her reaction actually turned out to be normal. I'm the one who isn't anymore.

However, I was far from being the only one with a shitty life. Jake came pretty close, probably sitting there, comatose in front of _The Price Is Right._

“Two-Face, what the hell are you doing here?”

He was rather surprised to see me. I showed him the bags I had brought him.

“I brought you some food.”

“Aww, you missed me that much, huh?” he asked, grinning.

“Yep.”

“Why aren't you with your precious Redfield? Did you guys get into a fight?”

“No, not at all.”

As I took the things out of the bags, I explained that Chris had been called into work. I had gone on to tell him that it was totally fine, it was his obligation, which got on Jake's nerves.

“Stop saying that, Nivans, he didn't need to go straight back to work as soon as you got out of the hospital. And don't pretend like it doesn’t bother you, I know for a fact that you… Oh fuck, beer! You're a savior!”

“Yeah, about that… I forgot that you're a minor, sorry. I actually bought you some sparkling cider instead.”

I unwrapped the bottle amidst a grave silence. When I looked back up, Jake was looking at me like I had just killed his family.

“Please… tell me you're joking.”

I just couldn't do anything right anymore, could I?

“I'm not about to provide alcohol to a minor.”

“If you think that I've never drank before…”

“That's no excuse!”

Jake fell back on his pillow and heaved a large sigh.

“I don't believe it, you and your conscience! You don't let minors drink, you don't flirt with straight guys… It's no wonder you've had so much success in life.”

I lowered my eyes. It's true that I definitely didn't picture my first day out of the hospital with Chris… without Chris and in the hospital.

“You know what? I'll drink your fizzy apple juice if you manage to open the bottle yourself.”

A challenge, huh? I looked at the bottle, and then to the corkscrew that I had purchased expressly for that purpose but couldn't grab because my hand was already full with the bottle. I visualized the whole struggle it would be to…

“Goddamnit.”

I held the pack of beer out to Jake as he laughed.

“Smart choice.”

He opened up two cans, one for the each of us. I sat down on my old bed. Chris’ jacket was still hidden away under my pillow, where I had left it. I took one of its sleeves in my hand, just like that.

“So, tell me,” Jake began, as we clinked our beers together. “How are things going at Redfield’s?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End chapter!   
> A big, big thanks again for reading and for your reviews! I hope you all liked this chapter! I shed a few less tears this time over Chris’ POV, I think I'm finally getting used to it!   
> See you again soon! Thank you again!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Translator’s note:_   
>  _Hello! I’m starting with a translator’s note this time just to explain the author’s note that follows, because it reflects some of the reactions of readers during the time the fic was first released, which may not (or they may) hold true for those who are reading it now, but I thought it would be fun to compare different readers’ perspectives!_
> 
> Hey there!  
> Wow, so much violence towards Chris in the reviews! On the last page alone, there’s so many people who want to do him harm:  
> -One who wants to shake him and scream in his face  
> -One who wants to kick his ass  
> -One who insulted him  
> -One who wants to tell him to shove it  
> -One who wants to drag him up by the collar  
> I would advise you to join forces if your plan is to try and beat up Chris Redfield with his 216 pounds! And also start doing weight training ;D !  
> A big thanks to for those reviews, and also for those who didn’t insult Chris, because I’m starting to feel guilty for him!  
> And with that, here you go!

 

**Post-injection 9.**

**Chris:**

I know I shouldn't say so, but it felt nice to get back to work. I had devoted my life to fighting bioterrorism, I was in my element here, training the recruits who would one day take up the torch. Okay, so the timing was less than ideal, that's for sure. I would have preferred to be called back in sooner or later, but not right when Piers had just gotten out of the hospital. Especially when I had promised him that we'd spend some time together, I had even planned a whole schedule of activities. Thankfully, he was an understanding kid, he hadn’t been upset at me in the slightest.

It had been a long time since I had been in charge of breaking in recruits. Generally, they sent me directly back to the field. But it was perfect for now, it would allow me to go back home every night.

I also needed to get used to working without Piers. He had been my partner for three years, we had developed a great dynamic that wasn't so easy to simply change. I remember that I had gotten my bearings quickly with him there. I would have even said that we were made for each other, professionally speaking. Since the beginning, without even having discussed it, we had established a good cop, bad cop routine that worked really well. I was in charge of the speeches and the pep talks, I fostered a sense of trust on the team, and I motivated the troops; Piers took control of yelling at them when necessary and keeping everybody in line. He was really good at that, and since I hated doing it myself I must say that it suited me quite nicely.

The result was that the recruits feared him more than me. But he was admired and respected despite it all; he was an excellent lieutenant. Now that he wasn't here anymore, I realized how much harder the job would be without him.

I'm not saying my current lieutenant was bad at his job, he did fine as well. He was an easygoing man, who like me had no desire to terrorize the poor recruits. But in the military, you can't let soldiers do whatever they want, and in the time it took me to figure out how to mesh with my new lieutenant’s leading style, there had been a few screw ups that cost me a few hours of overtime at my desk.

One of my soldiers was going to be court martialed this week, some moron just out of high school who had sold the weapons that he had been supplied by the BSAA, naively believing that he'd get them replaced with no questions asked. I knew that with Piers, this never would have happened. Piers would have found out before anybody, he would have chewed them out, both the recruit and the one who had reported him, but nobody would have ended up being court martialed. Worst case, he would have come to me about it, so we could work together to find a solution. Despite his cold exterior, Piers was a real team player, and the whole team had known.

Now, for my recruit, it was too late, he was going to be kicked out of the BSAA, without a shadow of a doubt. The only question now was how much it would cost the poor kid; his minimum wage pay was cannon fodder compared to the fines he could receive.  

I had to spend a few hours getting to know the facts, making several phone calls, and prepare his defense. When I judged that I had done as much as I could, and that the rest would have to be left to fate, it was already almost 0300 hours.

I returned home, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. Since Piers was sleeping in the living room, I had to avoid making the front door creak as I entered. But to my surprise, he wasn't asleep. The sofa bed was pulled out, and he was sitting in the dark watching TV with the sound almost muted, bundled up in the covers. He looked a bit down.

“Piers!” I whispered, not wanting to disturb Claire, who should have been sleeping in her room. “What are you doing still up? Don't tell me you were waiting for me.”

Of course he was waiting for me. He looked over at me.

“You're home late,” he responded instead, avoiding the question. “Problems at work?”

“Yeah.”

As it was late and I had to be back on base at 0800 hours, I had planned on going straight to bed when I got home. But Piers had stayed up so late just to see me come home, so the least I could do was spare some time to chat. Especially since I would always be leaving in the morning before he woke up; after work was the only time we'd really have to see each other.

I told him about the whole ordeal with my recruit as I reheated some leftovers in the microwave.

“Are you hungry? Want me to heat something up for you?”

“No thanks, I already ate.”

Piers yawned widely, practically dislocating his jaw in the process. He was nearly falling over from fatigue, why had he insisted on waiting for me? When I asked him again, he responded that he had been a bit worried.

“But why?”

“I don't know. I just was.”

Another yawn. Piers had gone through a traumatic experience that I had been wrong to neglect. And here he was still worrying about me, when I should have been the one worrying about him, since he was the one who had almost died.

I took my food from the microwave, then joined him on the unfolded sofa with my plate. He scooted over to make room for me. It was the end of a spaghetti western, I turned up the sound and watched a bit with him as I ate and we chatted. At least that had been the plan, but not even two minutes had passed before he fell asleep.

I didn’t notice until his head fell on my shoulder. He was seriously wiped out, poor guy. I couldn't bear to move, with him like that. I might have had trouble understanding Piers sometimes, but one thing about him was certain: after all he had been through, this kid was in need of some comfort. And on some level, it was a balm for me as well to hear him breathing regularly, to feel the weight and warmth of his body, alive and well, and _human_ against mine.

I watched the movie through to the end, since it was already 0400 hours anyways and I had to get up in just two hours. It would be pointless to try and go to bed now. I changed the channel, I dozed off a bit, everything was all good.

I woke up with a start for no apparent reason, as is wont to happen when one sleeps lightly. I tried to fall back asleep right away, but I made a false move that woke Piers up. He straightened up a little, in a daze, then all of a sudden broke away as he realized he was leaned against me. He had scrambled off the opposite side of the sofa in an instant, standing beside it with his hand held up to show me that it was empty, as if to prove that he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I swear, Captain, I didn't do it on purpose!” he exclaimed.

It made me laugh. What had gotten into him?

“Calm down, Piers! You didn't do anything, it's okay.”

He sat back down, albeit still keeping his distance on the other edge of the sofa. It was no doubt because of Muller and his incessant innuendos that he was probably afraid that I might get the wrong idea. The youth and their teen angst! It was so absurd that I was still laughing like an idiot. I wanted to tease him a bit, but I didn't dare after considering the sour look on his face.

I turned and coughed into my hand in order to hide my laugh. “What time is it?”

Piers checked his phone. It was 0530h, I was supposed to get up in only half an hour. But now that I was already up and about, might as well make the most of it. I prepared a complete breakfast for myself and Piers, and we ate it on the sofa bed in front of the TV like an old married couple. God, if my recruits could see me now, that would be the end of my authority.

I left for work in an excellent mood. I had barely slept overnight, but I didn’t really mind. It was far from the first time that I had worked on no sleep. Okay, I risked not being very fresh for my recruits, but oh well. We were just doing some basic training today, anyways.

* * *

**Piers:**

I would have liked more than anything to go with Chris to work. I would take care of the paperwork, I would smack some sense into that recruit… that's what I was good at. When I was his lieutenant, Chris never had had to work so late.

I might very well be living at his place, but I didn't see him as often as I would have thought. Ultimately, it seemed like we actually spent more time together when I was at the hospital.

In the mornings, I would set my alarm ten minutes before his just to be able to see him a little. I pretended like I was asleep and I watched him get ready, make his coffee, follow his morning routine. I know that it’s both pathetic and dishonest, but for me, it was priceless. I didn't miss it even once. Before heading out, he would pass in front of me and always stop to ruffle my hair, as if to say _see you tonight_. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't think I was asleep.

In his absence, I had a pretty good time with Claire. We went to see Jake every day, and the rest of the time she took me to the movies, to go shopping, to get some air, or to attend one of her weird eco-hippie meetings full of survivors from god knows where. I didn't exactly get what Claire did for a living, but one thing’s for sure: she never stopped doing it.

I didn't really like going out, especially those first few days, and yet Claire managed to drag me everywhere. She had taken it upon herself to get me accustomed to the outside world again, and I have to say that it worked. Seeing how I didn't know her that well in the beginning, and that she was hosting me, I didn't dare to say no to her for fear of appearing like a total ingrate. She took advantage of it to force my hand, to push me a little, give me some challenges. It's thanks to her that I was so quickly able to get used to the people in the street pointedly avoiding meeting their eyes with mine.

Claire was remarkable. She told me a lot about herself, about Chris, about their childhood, growing up as orphans. She had guessed how I felt about her brother almost immediately upon meeting me at the hospital. I guess Chris is really the only one who doesn't know, then. Rather fortunately, I might add.

Now that I had more things to keep me busy, I tried to spend less time in front of the TV. I had learned that bad habit from Jake, and it was time that I unlearned it. Now that I was no longer forced to be sitting or lying down in a bed all the time, I wanted to set about being more active, and just healthier in general.

At the hospital, I had told myself that if I wasn't careful, I was going to put on the pounds like no other from lazing about in front of the TV and eating Chris’ delicious cooking all the time. And yet the opposite seemed to occur. I couldn't stop losing weight for no reason. In the two months since before the mission in China, I had lost nearly twenty pounds. Ok, so four or five of them had probably been my arm, but it was still a lot. I even ate enough for four and did some strength training when I had the chance, but I couldn't manage to regain the weight. To make things worse, sometimes after eating or exercising I would end up puking.

Since I went to do my check-up at the hospital every Saturday, I decided to talk to them about it, but the only result was that I was more or less told off by a doctor who just scoffed that I wouldn't be here if I hadn't left all willy-nilly when I should have been in observation for at least another ten or fifteen years.

But they nevertheless told me that it was no doubt an effect of the virus, which had only been neutralized, not destroyed. It still drained my energy, and there was nothing they could do to stop it. As if there was anything to drain to begin with. I slept ten hours a day at least, and even then, I was still tired all the time. Fortunately, it didn't bother Claire, who often went to sleep at 4 in the morning and woke up after noon.

They were scheduled to award me the Medal of Honor next week. There would be a whole ceremony with a speech given by the President of the BSAA, I was nervous just thinking about it. I hadn't told anyone, but news travels fast in the military. My father was in the army, as well as two of my brothers. Another was in the air force, and I had an uncle in the marines. Fighting wars was the family business, it seemed. They had learned, through some way or another, that a Nivans was going to receive honors. Would they come though?

It was my father most of all that I was worried about, I hadn't been on good terms with him for a few years now. If I brought him the medal our family had been dreaming of for generations, would he change his mind about me? What would he say about my appearance? Would he feel sorry for me for once? And how was I supposed to react? I wasn’t sure if I was ready to forgive his puritanical sense of morality.

My worst nightmare was that he came and called me a dirty faggot in front of Chris. I felt a knot in my stomach just thinking about it. Chris never found out the reason that I had cut ties with my family. I had made up some story about difference in religion, keeping things sufficiently vague and mystical enough that he wouldn't dare to ask questions.

“Family is one of the best things you can have in this world,” is the only thing he had decided to tell me. “It’s really such a shame to lose it just from a difference in opinion.”

Go tell that to my parents, Chris. It was hard for him to imagine, being an orphan, but having bad parents could sometimes be worse than having no parents at all. I'm sure that Jake was much better off for it, and that he had become a much better person than if he had been raised by his father.

I wondered how Chris would react if my dad decided to insult me publicly the day of the award ceremony. What if Chris slapped him in the face? If he did, I'd ask him to marry me on the spot! I'm serious, I wouldn't be able to resist. 

I had a hard time openly opposing my father, as awful as he was, because of filial piety and all that nonsense. Even today, I couldn't bring myself to break the code of conduct that I had been raised to uphold. If Chris took up my defense against my father, that would be just… I don't even have the words for it. It would be crazy. My love for him would a whole new level of wonder and awe.

Well, I also ran the opposite risk that Chris put two and together for once, and that he realize that if my father, whom I had cut off contact with, had breached that gap just to come and call me a fag, there might actually be a reason for it. And if he looked back on all of the deplorable jokes Jake had made back at the hospital and put two and two together, I'd be screwed. But I think that might be giving him too much credit, no offense, Captain.

In the end, I had gotten all worked up for nothing, my father didn't show. Nor my mom, nor anyone from my family. What good is it coming from a family of seven kids, if you just end up alone for the big moments in life? Chris only had one sister, and he sees her more often than I do my entire family combined.

So as it turned out, the only attendees were Sherry and Claire, and a few old buddies from the BSAA. Jake had requested special authorization to be able to leave the hospital just for the occasion, but they didn't grant it. Chris was up on the stand, as well as Captain Jill Valentine who was there acting as the co-founder of the BSAA. There was even a camera crew. In face of all that, I felt a bit lousy, with my face of a monster. Fortunately, though, I wasn’t the only one to receive the medal; there were five of us who would be receiving it today. On my right, there was a guy who had lost both his legs while evacuating hostages. On my left, an old, weeping woman represented her son, who couldn't receive the medal himself because he had been in a coma for the last six months. You could find misery anywhere you looked, it seemed.

As the President started on his speech, it sounded like a load of nonsense to me. So maybe I was being cynical, but this medal, I honestly couldn't care less about it. I would have been more than proud to stay in the BSAA, but instead I rather had the impression that I was being given a consolation prize. I knew that it was my bitterness talking and that the Medal of Honor was a truly esteemed recognition of service that few people are given the privilege to, but that didn't keep me from feeling like I was being dismissed.

And the President went on and on and on… honestly, I was incredibly dull, it was a good thing that Jake hadn't come. I couldn't stop looking at Captain Valentine at the end of the stand. Besides being one of the founders of the BSAA, this woman was also Chris’ ex. Chris’. Ex.

I was dying to know why they broke up. They had known each other since they were young, they had both joined the military, they had created the BSAA together… and they had separated, just like that. According to Claire, it was Jill who had put an end to their relationship. How could that be possible, to leave Chris? I would really love to know what had happened. Maybe she let because she had discovered that he had some repressed homosexual tendencies? Man, I really shouldn't be thinking about that in the middle of the ceremony.

Whatever the case, she had broken things off, and again, according to Claire, it took Chris months, maybe even years, to recover from it because he was still in love with her. Claire said that when her brother loves someone, he loves them for life. Needless to say that I wished that were the case for me. But then, just looking at Jill Valentine, I realized just how far out of my league with Chris I was compared to her.

I would seriously be the greatest of fools if I began to compare myself to Chris’ ex. That's something that only teens really do, I'm too old for that kind of thing. And even though the President's speech was far from thrilling, it would be disrespectful to not pay attention.

...Well first of all, she was a woman, and Chris was straight. One point for her. Also, she was very pretty. I'm far from being an expert on the topic, but her bust was superb. Me and my two-face, on the other hand, were better left hidden at the bottom of a hole. Captain Valentine had in fact received some scars from the effects of bioterrorism herself, three years ago. But it hadn’t affected her like I had been: she went from a pretty brunette to a pretty platinum blonde. I went from “I-don’t-wanna-brag-but-I’m-a-pretty-good-looking-guy” to Quasimodo. Valentine 2 - Nivans 0.

Next, she was physically able, which was no longer the case for me. My latest discovery to date, was that with one arm, in the rain, I couldn't manage to open some doors without getting soaked by the rain, since I only had one hand that was already holding the umbrella. Sad, right? And the real kicker was that I had only discovered that after having spent fifteen minutes trying to open it, that goddamn umbrella.

And to continue: there was almost a fourteen years’ age difference between me and Chris, whereas Jill was about the same age as him. I was unemployed, she was the captain of the BSAA. I had a family that would never accept him, she was an orphan like him.

I could go on and on like that for the entire duration of the speech, which is to say a really long time, but strangely, it wasn't depressing for me to think about. Captain Valentine was someone that I’ve always admired tremendously, just like I have with Captain Redfield. I knew that they went well together. But there was still one point where I had Jill beat: she had dumped him, and I hadn't. I still had a chance. 

Since I had begun to live with Chris, I couldn't help but feel optimistic. It was maybe because I saw him every morning, or maybe because Jake kept telling me that I was starting to wear him down, but I felt like that we'd end up together eventually, no matter how long it took, simply because I really wanted us to. That I didn't even need to go on the offensive about it, because destiny would take care of the rest. I knew it was dangerous and beyond foolish to think that way, that it was all in my head. But that didn't change the fact that he had taken me in. That he had held my hand in public. That he had let me sleep on his shoulder. So basically, I believed it, as dumb as it seemed. Or rather, I believed it without believing it. Let’s say that for the first time, I let myself hope.

And with that, I was afraid of having my hopes dashed at any moment. If he told me, right then and there, that he had a new girlfriend, I didn't know how I'd react. I’d probably congratulate him with dignity, and then I'd go straight to the bathroom to hide myself away with equal dignity, then bash my head against the wall for eternity. That didn't seem like too bad of a plan.

Finally, the speech seemed to be over. I hadn’t heard a word of it. The President passed in front of each of us in turn to confer our medals to us, and then I was granted a big hug from Chris in congratulations. This was heaven. I had to force myself not to let it last too long, I was all too tempted to just start kissing his neck. After that, Captain Valentine came to shake my hand. That made me seriously thrilled, even if in my head I was imagining myself asking her what her ex’s opinions on sodomy were. I know, it's disgraceful, but knowing the answer to that would change everything.

It was Jake who planted those ideas in my head, I really had to stop hanging out with him so much.

Claire and Sherry gave me big hugs as well. I had very well acted the cynic, but it was an emotional event, nonetheless. As we were all getting ready to leave, the President called:

“Captain Redfield, could you please stay here a moment?”

Chris looked to us.

“We’ll be waiting outside,” Claire told him.

We then sat down on a bench in the hallway outside and we waited. He came out fifteen minutes later, looking troubled. Jill was with him.

“What’s happened?” asked Claire, standing up.

He looked from his sister to me before turning his gaze away.

“I'm going back out on a mission.”

“What? Already?” Claire exclaimed.

“It’s already been two months now that I've been here, that's more than what I could have hoped for,” he responded mechanically. I didn't want him to go. Damn it, no, Chris, just stay with me for a little while longer! Forget the fact that I love you, I'm not ready to face the rest of the world without you yet.

“And where are you being sent?” Claire asked, before I could even start with the melodramatics.

“Alaska. They've detected signs of bioterrorist activity in an unregistered base.

No no no. I'd heard that kind of description plenty of times, and usually I would have responded, ‘ _Okay Captain, orders received’_ and gone and relayed the order to the rest of the soldiers to pack their bags and get ready to leave the next day. That's what I liked about the military; you didn't need to think about minor details like that, there were established protocols in place, a response already dictated for everything. Now that I was a civilian, how was I supposed to go about telling Chris that I needed him?

“How long this time?” Claire asked him, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I don't know yet. I'm going ahead to scope out the lay of the land, and the next step will depend on my report.

If I recall correctly, the maximum length allowed for deployment on a mission in the BSAA was five years. Five. Years.

“And you’re leaving when?”

Claire's voice was trembling now. She must have already known the answer from having asked it each time her brother told her he was going on a mission:

“Tomorrow.”

I took a deep breath and cast my gaze up towards the ceiling. To the bathroom. With dignity. Congratulate him and go bash my head against the wall. That had been my plan for the new girlfriend, but it could work for this as well.

“Piers, you ok?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course Captain. It's just that I would have liked to be going with you.”

I gathered all my courage and gave him a smile. And then it suddenly occurred to me that this might be the last time I saw him. Who would cover his six if things went wrong out there?

“I'm sorry I had to tell you guys like this, it was really unexpected…”

“I would have liked to take the mission in his place,” Jill added, “but they're sending me to China, to oversee the raid efforts in the quarantine zone in Lanshiang.”

The missile that we had been unable to stop. Did that mean that the nightmare was finally going to be coming to an end over there? That maybe some people in that city of four million inhabitants managed to make it out okay? I looked over to Sherry. She looked like she wanted to say something. Leading a raid in a quarantine zone sounded like it would be right up her alley, even more so given that she had seen firsthand what state the city had been left in. For a while now, she had been doing some research on the BSAA, making inquiries, asking Chris questions about the organization's work; she was considering sending in her application. It made Jake angry beyond imagination, but I thought she was making the right decision. To fight to save the world, who could dream of anything better?

Even though we were in the middle of getting ready to say our long goodbyes with Chris leaving tomorrow, Sherry couldn't resist asking for an update on Lanshiang. She and Captain Valentine went away to discuss the matter further, and Chris, Claire and I found ourselves alone.

“So…” Claire began. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

This sadness, this feeling of being abandoned, she must have felt it so many times, she knew how to cope. And I needed only to follow her example. After all, she was Chris’ sister, and I had no real ties to Chris besides the ones that I had made up in my head.

On the way home in the car, Claire told me from the driver's seat, again and again, that I should continue to stay at their place, Chris or no Chris.

“You could just have his room. And you'll see, we'll have plenty of fun without him. He won't ever bother us again about turning down our music, and we won't be forced to eat expired yogurt anymore! We could invite Sherry over every evening and party all night, as long as we want, without him banging on the door grumbling that he has work the next day! We’ll finally be left in peace!”

Her tone was cheerful, but her eyes were totally fixed on the road, empty and blinking in sync with the windshield wipers. The heart just wasn't there.

* * *

The next day, he was off.

Claire and I, we tried to stay strong, laughing it off, saying, ‘Get out of here, good riddance!’ and pretending to check the time when we felt the charade wearing thin. I'm glad that Claire was there with me, I don't know how I could have held it together all alone.

It was 0400 hours, and we were waiting in our pajamas in front of the building where a military escort would be coming to get him.

When the vehicle turned on to the street, Chris wrapped his sister in his arms and picked her up off the ground in a crushing bear hug. They looked adorable like that, by the light of dawn.

For me, he didn't wrap me up in his arms. He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a long glance. Maybe I should have been the one to initiate the gesture, but I hadn't dared. Like every other that I was close to him, I was stricken with the fear that he'd reject me. So I stood there, returning his gaze, not moving a muscle.

“I'm sorry to have to do this to you,” he said.

“There's no need! I'll be fine, with Claire. As long as you promise me you'll be careful out there, Captain.”

“I promise.”

“Don't forget that I won't be there to cover you.”

“As if I could. It's gonna be really strange without hearing you challenge my orders.”

I laughed a little at that. I wasn’t exactly myself at that moment. 

“I'll be back as soon as I can,” he added. “And I'll call every chance I get.”

“He says that now,” joked Claire, “but really he won't ever call and six months later we’ll find out he's completely forgotten our existence.”

“You're never gonna let me hear the end of that, huh?”

He let me go to grab Claire and trap her head under his shoulder. Claire burst out laughing.

“Never!” she replied as she struggled to break free.

The pickup honked its horn.

“I have to go,” he said, turning serious once more. “Look after each other, okay? I'll call you guys. Piers…”

I had my eyes fixed on the ground when his hand, it brushed my cheek. I recoiled like I had been shocked, I didn't know if he had done it on purpose, he acted like nothing had happened.

“...Captain?”

“When I get back, maybe you could learn to drop the formalities. And call me by my name.”

Keep calm. Don't blush. Don't sound stupid.

“Y-yeah, maybe,” I stammered, feeling a lump in my throat.

As for not sounding stupid, well, I'd have to work on that later. He gave Claire one last hug, then got in the car. He gave a quick sign off with one hand as he closed the door, and we waved our goodbyes like a bunch of kids. And watching him go, I felt that it broke my heart on the one hand, but it made me smile on the other: Chris was ultimately glad to go back out on a mission. It was his job, his cause. It was what he was made for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it!  
> I didn't dare to say it at the beginning of the chapter for fear of making everyone leave, but know that you just read the second chapter in a row without Jake. Terribly sorry.  
> BUT he'll be back in the next chapter for certain!  
> This chapter here was a transition chapter. It seemed necessary to me so that the next chapter doesn’t come out of nowhere, but I know that this kind of chapter doesn't add a whole lot, it's boring to write and boring to read. Still, I hope it was okay. The next two chapters will make up for this little dry spell in terms of the story (at least I hope so… that's how it's supposed to go, anyway, but as they haven't been written yet I can't promise anything :D) I was happy to put Jill in there for a bit, in any case, and I had fun writing the part where Piers compares himself to her.  
> Okay, and to thank you all for following the story and leaving all your reviews, as well as for having to ensure this transition chapter with no Jake, I'll give you guys a mini-spoiler: in the next chapter (or possibly the one following it if I write too much, but it should be in the next one if all goes according to plan)...  
>  _Chris_  
>  _le_  
>  _saura_  
>  Dun dun dunnnnn!!!! (I did it in _French_ just to _be a cheeky little bastard ;P_ )  
> Hugs and kisses to you all, and thank you very much! Thanks for the reviews, and thanks for being so patient! See you soon!
> 
> _Translator’s note:_   
>  _I do apologize for the lack of Jake’s POV in these past two chapters, but.... not really :P. Is it a coincidence that the chapters without him in it just seem to be put out faster? Hmm, maybe, but this transition chapter was also much shorter. But worry not, the next two will more than make up for it, as promised, I've certainly got my work cut out for me! So please be patient with me, as they might take a bit longer to get translated!_   
>  _And in case it wasn't clear, the italicized parts in the author's note were written by me. I thought it would be funny to reverse what the author did, writing the spoiler in English for their French audience. And though you might have figured it out anyway, the original spoiler reads:_   
>  **CHRIS**   
>  **WILL**   
>  **KNOW**   
>  _Until next time! ;)_


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10! Happy reading!  
> (/!\ Warning! This chapter is long, very long, abominably long. So long that I wanted to cut it in two, but if I had then my spoiler at the end of the last chapter would have been a lie. And so as to avoid any suspicion that I'm giving you all false hope, I wanted to keep my word! But don't you worry, today we've got Jake back!

**Post-injection 10.**

**Jake:**

When Nivans left the hospital, which had been some time ago now, I was convinced that we’d never see each other again. That now that he lived with his dear old Redfield, we'd have the kind of relationship where you send each other a greeting card maybe once a year, and an announcement for special occasions, but when you see each other at the store, you exchange uncomfortable smiles and say something like, ‘It's been so long, it's crazy! Time sure flies, huh? I would love to get drinks with you, but I just don't have the time, I'm double parked outside, so sorry!’

But actually, that's not what happened at all. Just the day after his release, he showed up back here with a pack of beer to proudly tell me about how he had managed to take the bus all by himself like a big boy. And since then, he had continued to come see me regularly, not every day but as often as he could. Sometimes he came with Claire, other times by himself. He would bring me chips and magazines and he would tell me about all his efforts to NOT bang Redfield. Because yeah, as soon as he had a chance, and I swear that Redfield’s actions were ambiguous even from an objective point of view at times, Piers seemed to make a point of sabotaging himself on purpose. And he was proud of it, that idiot. _Did you see_ , he'd say with a big smile, _he wanted to hold me in his arms and I was dying to let him but instead I told him to get lost like a huge snob. Who's good?_

Their messed-up logic gave me headaches I seriously hadn't thought possible, both of them.

Redfield had continued to come visit too, and that had been even more surprising. He would come by around noon, when hours recruits were at the cantine, since he worked just 100 feet or so from the hospital. He always brought me food.

The first few times that it had been just the two of us, it had been weird and kind of freaked me out. We didn't say anything to each other, he and I. But it was still company, and any old bastard would do during the off hours, I was seriously bored out of mind. His grub was too good, which was a plus.

Over time, we fell into a sort of routine: the first thing Redfield did as he came in was to nab the remote from me and turn off the TV. Then he opened the blinds up wide and lectured me about how I had an unhealthy lifestyle. And inevitably, we'd end up going at it like dogs. I didn't know that Chris was such a mother hen, and I have to say that I didn't really hate it. But that didn't make it any less annoying. And even if he let the TV go, if he talked about something nice like his recruits, or Nivans, or the progress on the situation in Edonia and China, it ended in us going at it regardless. I think it was just how we communicated with each other, I don't know. I never stopped giving him hell. Maybe it was a sort of vengeance for killing my father, or maybe it was because he was so slow to get with the times about Nivans that it made me want to shake some sense into him. But okay, even though I was hardly ready to admit it out loud, I was touched that Redfield and Nivans hadn't let me go, and that Claire also came to see me from time to time, because things weren't going so well with Sherry.

These last few months, our relationship seemed to be falling apart. But I loved her, I really did. What I felt for her I can't even describe, I had never loved anyone before her. There were a bunch of things that weren't working, a bunch of problems, and it all boiled down to my confinement in the hospital, more or less.

Let's just cut to the chase, I'm talking about sex. We had no privacy, the medical personnel never knocked, and there were glass walls and glass windows that didn't hide anything. But we did the best we could, we made do with the situation, we got a little creative. It was even kind of fun for Sherry. She said it would make a good story to tell the kids in thirty years. I thought it would be kinda messed up to tell them that, but I mean, she was only joking. That was the only thing that we both agreed on right away in fact, that we didn't want to have kids. Our respective parents had traumatized us both, having abandoned us, wanting to destroy the world, or inject us with a virus.

At the beginning, it wasn't too hard to find ways to get it on, the researchers hadn't yet begun their experiments on me and mostly left me in peace. They had started getting on my case about it a little before Nivans had been moved into my room. And then, it had been even easier: as soon as Sherry and I got a little too handsy with each other, Nivans went to stand guard out in the hallway, like college kids did to their roommates. When a nurse would come by to try and enter, he stalled them by asking a ton of stupidly basic questions about his state of health, often going into gory detail about this giant patch of raw skin, or that unsightly section that had calloused over. Half the time he was actually did have to go in for some tests, but it gave me and Sherry the time to get dressed. And after the fact, it actually made us laugh.

When he left to go live with the Redfields, things got more complicated. The doctors increased the frequency of their tests, and they wouldn’t get off my back, and in the end we inevitably got caught. You see the thing is, is that the hospital had officially forbidden me from copulating (yeah, that's actually the word they used) as long as the experiments were in progress; in other words, as long as I was still confined here. And as if it hadn't been humiliating enough getting caught in the act, they then proceed to yell at us like we were a bunch of kids. Sherry didn't take the whole thing very well.She was nervous about visiting from then on, and the medical personnel did their fuckin’ best to discourage her from coming back for good. The nurses called her _the slut_ , and the medical researchers told her that she had fucked everything up and now I'd have to stay here even longer than before. And then they never left us alone. They removed the blinds on the windows facing the hallway, and every time that Sherry was there, a nurse stood outside watching us. It was horribly stressful.

The best thing to do was to not care, and to remind ourselves it was only temporary, that I wouldn't be stuck there forever. I told Sherry that she was in no position to complain, seeing as how she got to go home at the end of visiting hours, while I had to deal with the Gestapo watching me 24/7. Sherry replied that I had no idea where she lived, and so I'd do well to shut it. Things weren't so lovey-dovey between us after that.

Normally, Sherry actually lived in New York, but the BSAA base and the antibioterrorism research center and hospital complex were located in the Nevada desert, forty minutes away from the closest city. To be able to come visit me as often as possible, Sherry had rented a room with an old hag who was at least a hundred years old and acted like my girl was a whore every time she went out, then asked her sweetly for a foot massage as soon as she got back. Sweet as a lemon, I'll bet.

So yeah, it must have been hard for her. But when she was telling me about it, I said to her: here, take my money and check yourself into a five-star hotel, and she refused. I didn't understand why she wouldn't take the money, shit, we were dating, after all. What did she have to complain about, if she wanted to keep living with that old crone when I gave her the means to get out?

We also argued more and more. She would leave before visiting hours were over. And the next day she wouldn't call me. And some days after she would come back, we'd say we were dumb for having acted like that, but nothing would change. The problems stayed the same.

Just yesterday, we got into an argument for the dumbest reason. She had told me that she might not be able to come tomorrow because she had a big interview on the other side of the state. The thing that bothered me, it wasn't that she couldn't come see me, but that she was looking for a job when I'm a millionaire. I mean, I was sure that she was thinking about dumping me in the near future, why else would she be looking to work? Unless it was to be independent or some other feminist bullshit… Nah, she was going to leave me, she just had to be. She already came to see me less and less… she was just waiting for the right moment to break it to me, was all.

Nivans said it was all my fault. What a pal. He said it was only natural that she wanted some space, since every time she came to visit, which was already hard enough because the doctors hated her, I just yelled at her. But what can I do, I just… I just would have liked to spend more time with her, y'know? I was sick of seeing her leave every time at 5 o'clock, I needed more than that. I needed to get out of this hospital, it was this place that was destroying our relationship.

I realized with each passing day that we had been much happier during the days that we were hiding in dumpsters to escape Ustanak. We had been a lot closer than, compared to now. And it was sad.

Everything would work itself out when I got out of the hospital, I kept telling myself. Everything would work out. The problem was, that it didn't seem to be happening anytime soon.

At the moment, I was still in the midst of an experiment: forbidden from eating, forbidden from moving, and fed through an IV that set off an alarm if I tried to remove it. Sherry was giving me the cold shoulder and Redfield had left for Alaska over a week ago. At this rate, I was going to die here all alone and nobody'd even notice.

But wait: the door opened and I saw Nivans come in, flanked by two nurses. It wasn't visiting hours though, it was barely 7 AM.

“Hey,” he said.

“You just couldn't stay away, I knew it!”

“Yep,” he responded a bit absently.

He looked like shit, even worse than normal. His left side was all pale, his eye inflamed, his forehead beaded with sweat. He didn't look much like the Nivans I had seen last week, more like the one we had found half-dead down in the underwater facility. His right side was nothing new. It was still the same mincemeat as before.

He had his big sports bag with him. He set it on the bed, a sign that he was gonna be staying for a few days at least. I asked him what was up, he told me he had a fever, maybe the flu, and the doctors wanted to keep him under observation just in case.

He left again with the nurses to have a few tests done, then he came back an hour later to curl up in his bed. It was really the perfect timing for me to get Two-Face back. Just when I was starting to get depressed.

Okay, so he really wasn't in a mood to talk that much, he was seriously not doing so hot. In the morning he was still doing okay, but once it was past noon, he spent half his time throwing up in the bathroom. If he came back just to give me the stomach flu, I really could have done without, thanks!

I might have been saying that, but I didn't really mean it. Even if he didn't say much, it was nice to have someone near me. And he also listened, at least. I could gripe about Sherry all morning, it felt good! But even with a 104-degree fever Nivans still found a way to lecture me anyways, saying it was my fault that I didn't show my girlfriend enough respect. Jesus christ…

“Oh yeah, well y'know what? You and your Redfield, I think you respect him a little too much!”

Nivans, who was on his knees in the bathroom, puking his guts out, flashed me the finger without even taking his head out of the toilet. Ha, what style!

Still, it was crazy. Redfield was gone a week and Nivans was already close to dying of a brain fever. Did he do it on purpose or what? Was he choosing to let himself die now because he couldn't stand being apart? Shit, that's love for you!

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” groused Piers, returning with his face red and green like the Portuguese flag. “It won't be so funny when you’ve caught your death.”

You're telling me!

In no time at all, everything was back to the way it was, before he left the hospital. We joked around, we argued, we talked about love…

The state of Piers’ health wasn't improving despite all the drugs the nurses were giving him. Nobody knew what was wrong with him. The doctors were betting it was just a bad case of the flu, but Nivans said he was feeling pain near the place where he had been amputated, and then they went off on calling it a psychosomatic illness of the highest degree. Especially since Nivans couldn't sleep anymore, he couldn't stop thrashing about and waking up every five minutes. They had given him some sleeping pills, but he always ended up puking them back up before they could take effect. Seriously, I was never setting foot in that bathroom again.

Finally, after two days, the doctors resorted to getting him to sleep by injecting him with something, so that he could at least get a full night's rest. Oof. It was a nice break for me as well, not having to hear him thrashing about anymore.

I slept like a baby. Nivans hadn’t made a sound. I woke up a little before the first of the nurse’s rounds of the morning. I stretched out a bit, then I turned on the TV. I hadn’t been in such great shape either, going on a few weeks now. I didn’t know if it was Nivans or the experiments they were doing on me. But oh well, nothing too alarming for the time being. I shot a glance over at Two-Face and then...

“Oh shit. Shit!”

Blood. Blood everywhere. Blood and something even more disgusting, like the pus from a J’avo. I didn't waste time going around the side of my bed to drag my coat rack of an IV stand with me to reach Nivans, I just ripped everything out and jumped on top of him. I tried shaking him, then slapping his face when that failed. He wasn't waking up.

“Nivans, fuck! Get up! What the hell is all that? Jesus christ, your arm!”

His hideous mutant arm was back where the amputated arm had been. It looked exactly like it had in the underwater facility, all fishy and gross, covered in boils and blisters, exposed tissue and gristle, and spasming from electric shocks. It had _regrown_ , this thing, and it had taken over again in a single night. It was an absolute horror.

I pressed the button to call for the nurses, and then I returned to trying to wake Nivans, shaking him and yelling for him to get up. He finally blinked his eyes open, groaning.

“What?”

Oh thank god, good to see he was still himself.

“Don't worry, I already called the nurses, they'll take care of it. But what the hell happened?”

I asked him without thinking. I was no longer shaking him, but I still hadn’t let go of his shoulder. Hell, he had really scared me for a second.

And then he saw the arm and froze. How many times was this scene going to repeat itself?

“Jake…”

His voice was barely a murmur, full of terror. His breath turned ragged, wheezing in his panic. He gripped my arm with his normal hand.

“Oh god, Jake, this can't be real.”

It was definitely surreal, yeah. He moved his J’avo arm little by little, opening and closing the pincer-things on his arm. You could hear a faint sparking sound coming from it, electricity crackling over the surface. It was the arm that had saved our lives, Sherry’s and mine, down in the facility. It was a bit shorter, a bit atrophied compared to back then, but it was continuing to regenerate before our eyes.

Piers began to panic in earnest, then, jerking about suddenly, but he kept his right arm held up, as far from his body as possible. His left arm was pinned down by me, I wasn't about to let him go like that. I was able to hold him there easily until the doctors arrived. They administered a sedative, Nivans let them do what they had to, and they took him away. They gave me a piece of their mind for having unhooked the IV and all that, and then I was left all by myself.

Christ, talk about a rude awakening.

When they brought him back in the afternoon, they had amputated him again and he looked utterly lost. He didn't even try to smile in attempt to reassure me he was okay. Instead, he just lay there facing the wall, unmoving since the nurses had put him back in bed.

“You okay?”

No response. I tried again.

“Helloooo? You there? I'm talkin’ to you here, Two-Face!”

He turned towards me slowly, he looked at me for a while, and then let out a totally out-of-it,

“Huh?”

“... never mind.”

He was like that the next two days as well. He was like a brick wall. He didn't react to anything, he only responded with monosyllables. In his head though, was another a story, it must have been going at 100 miles an hour. Why did this happen? What am I becoming? All sorts of things like that, none of them good for his mental state, no doubt. Thanks to that second mutation, the researchers were now able to confirm that the vaccine was only effective it administered preventatively. If the C-Virus had already spread through your body, you were looking at a lifelong treatment.

I tried everything to get him out of his head. I turned the TV on, I turned it off, I talked and I talked, I read him all the worst jokes I could find on the internet, (I wasn’t kidding when I said I tried everything…) I yelled at him, I insulted Redfield, I talked smack about Sherry… nothing worked. I ended up letting it go. Whatever he needed, it wasn't me. It wasn't my friendship or my cringey jokes that would help him at the moment.

For the past hour now, he had been fiddling with his phone. He pored over his messages, he typed a few words and then deleted them, over and over again… he wanted to call Redfield, but he didn't dare. Were you able to bring your cell phone with you, in the army? I was almost certain the answer was no. But Claire had said that in case of emergency, you could always contact the BSAA, who could call HQ, who would then decide whether or not contacting the soldier would be permitted. No chance that Piers was gonna do that. He didn't even dare to… fuckin’ hell, even in a situation like this he didn't even dare to call Redfield just to hear his voice on his answering machine. It was heartbreaking, genuinely painful to watch. Where were you, Redfield? Where were you, you bastard, when your lieutenant needed you?

The phone suddenly started to vibrate in his hand, making Nivans jump. Phew, finally, a reaction! In a second, he had looked over to me.

“I called him, so what. Aren't you gonna pick up?

“I just… It's Chris.”

“Then pick up.”

He was suddenly super stressed, for someone who had been so apathetic for the last two days. He fumbled a bit to answer the phone and then:

“Hello?” he croaked, his voice totally nervous, not at all in control.

Within seconds, I watched as his whole face relaxed, and he leaned back to settle comfortably in his pillows.

“Captain…” he began, much more at ease now. “How are you managing, over there?”

There was a short silence, and then Nivans let out a fragile laugh. Incredible. And here I thought I was the only one who knew how to make him laugh. What a blow to my ego.

They chatted for a short time. I didn't even try and pretend that I wasn’t listening in. Piers wasn’t paying attention to me in any case, he was all too happy talking to his beloved captain. At the beginning, it was mostly Redfield that talked. Nivans only gave one- or two-word answers that weren’t enough to guess what that were talking about. But at one point, things started to get good:

“Yes…” came Nivans. “Yes… okay, that works…”

Followed by:

“Ah, sorry, I can't pass it to her, I'm not at your place.”

“...”

“At the hospital.”

Shouting came from the other end of the line. I wasn’t sure what time it was in Alaska, but it was nearly 11 pm here. Way past visiting hours.

“No, don't worry, nothing serious.”

Yeah right!

“Yes… yeah, I know… yes… I went through surgery, but…”

“...”

“...Appendicitis.”

Appendicitis? Fucking _appendicitis?_ Jesus, what the hell was he getting himself into this time? But at the same time, it really wasn't all that surprising.

The conversation lasted for a little while longer, and then Piers hung up and turned towards me. He gave me a great big smile.

“Chris is coming back in a week to present a report on the situation. He's going to stay 48 hours.”

His eyes were shining, he was above the moon all of a sudden. I didn’t know why, but it bothered me, it hurt a little to see. How could Piers manage to celebrate when his life was so shitty, so fucked up in every aspect? 48 hours, that's hardly anything. It was stupid. Definitely not enough to look so happy about.

“Cool,” I threw out anyway.

He nodded, still smiling. He had really been doing so awful these past few days that I really didn't want to burst his bubble with anything even slightly negative. After a bit of silence, he added:

“I think I'm going to tell him…”

What? What was he gonna tell him? He took a deep breath:

“That I need him. That I’d like him to stay. His Alaska mission is mostly infiltration, that's not his field of expertise. In his report, if he chooses to, he can recommend a more qualified captain. He said that he wanted to hear my opinion. I’d like to tell him that I would prefer that he stayed here… Do you think that's selfish?”

Selfish? Aw pffff! For a second there I thought he was finally going to tell Chris that he loved him, but I don't know what I was thinking. At this point, I'd settle for him not lying to him about the fact that he had a relapse of the C-Virus.

“Nah. Christ, it’s about time, is what I think.”

But I mean, that's if he actually tells him. Just watch, he'll chicken out.

* * *

**Piers:**

One week. Just one short week and Chris would be back here, in the flesh. I really couldn't wait, I couldn't stop thinking about it. And honestly, it was better that way. It kept my mind off of everything that happened with the virus.

I didn't tell Chris, and I didn't plan to. Well, it would have to depend how things went when we saw each other again. Who knows? I spent hours and hours imagining it: he comes into my room, he's so overcome with emotion that he can't speak, I get up, he wraps me up in his arms, he lifts me up off the ground like he did with Claire, he whispers in my ear: _I missed you so much! I'm never going to let you go again, you hear me? Never again!_ He kisses me, confetti rains from the sky, all of the hospital staff clap like in a romantic comedy… I dreamed about all the possibilities in my head.

I very well knew that it wouldn't play out like that, but honestly, the only thing that really mattered was that he was coming back. It was okay if we weren't exactly where we left off before his mission, emotionally speaking. It was just nice to dream. I needed it.

What I had felt after that second mutation was fear, above all. And disgust, of course, like before. The virus hadn’t been eliminated, it was only inactive, and I had to be treated for life for it to stay that way. Otherwise it would resurface, because if this episode taught me one thing, it's that the C-Virus was stronger than me.

There was another thing, too, that was equally terrifying but more insidious. For five minutes that day, I had had a right arm. It was an abominable arm, mutated, destructive, and horribly painful, but it was an arm, nonetheless. An arm that I could feel, that I could move. For the past three months where everyday tasks had become challenges to overcome, it had been beyond strange to be able to bend my elbow, turn my wrist, curl and uncurl what served as my fingers… Every day since the amputation, I had been missing my arm. I was startled every time I looked down to find nothing there. It wasn't anybody's fault, but I couldn't help thinking that it was cruel. I hadn’t wanted anything to do with that mutated arm, but now I wondered if life might be easier with it. Why did I struggle to look as human as possible? Appearance-wise, I was already messed up anyways, I was hardly fooling anybody. Even Jake thought that I shouldn't have cut off my _badass_ arm. What had always been certain for me, I had now begun to question.

All of these doubts, on some level, had been caused by Chris’ absence. Because as soon as I learned he was coming back, and then later on when he was right there in person, I knew that I had made the right decision. The C-virus, that wasn't me. I'm human. I lost my arm out of love and out of duty, and I didn't regret it. I was proud of it. I certainly didn't need a substitute that was so traumatizing. But when things got rough, the uncertainty came back systematically. It was something I'd need to get used to. That's how it was going to be for the rest of my life.

I missed Chris terribly in his absence, more than I could ever have imagined. I knew it didn't seem like much, a few weeks with him being gone, but these last three years we had been together almost 24/7, often in very close proximity due to the nature of our work. The only time we had been separated had been when he disappeared in Edonia. But that didn't count; every day during that time had been dedicated to finding him. I had been motivated, active, and my life had still revolved around his. Whereas now, not so much. Other than thinking about him, there wasn't much I could realistically do to maintain ties between us. And I couldn't get used to it, it made me utterly depressed. I felt alone and abandoned. After three years of working so intensely together, it was really jarring to not have him close at hand anymore.

The day of his return, I had a hard time staying still. I had gone to a whole lot of trouble convincing my doctor to authorize my release from the hospital the same day. I hardly needed to stay a whole month this time, I wasn’t new to recovering from being amputated this time. That way, I'd be able to spend the evening with Chris and Claire, just like before.

When he came knocking at the door, I felt like a little kid who had been waiting for Santa Claus to appear on Christmas.

“Hey, you two,” he said as he came in.

“Hey.”

“Good afternoon, Captain!”

I immediately felt like an idiot. I had to start calling him Chris, like he had asked, but caught up in all the emotions I was feeling I had let it slip. He didn't call me out though. He looked like he was in great shape, and the Alaskan sun had given him a nice tan. He was smiling, and he had a good amount of stubble going. Completely alluring. I couldn't help but smile as well. He didn't wrap me up in his arms and there was no rainbow shining through the window, but it was magical even still.

He then stepped aside to allow another man to enter.

“Piers, there's somebody I'd like you to meet.”

My face froze seeing this stranger in uniform. My uniform.

“This is Danny, my new lieutenant.”

Was I supposed to take this well? Did he think this would make me happy? Because Chris still had that magnificent smile on his face, but for me, it was like I had been struck by lightning. His new lieutenant? Of course he had a new lieutenant, he was the captain of Alpha team. But why did he have to bring him here? How was that supposed to help me?

The guy approached me. I couldn't bring myself to say anything, do anything.

“Piers Nivans, is it? Happy to finally meet you. The captain talks about you all the time. Day and night, it never stops! I have to admit, it's starting to give me a complex!”

He laughed, joking before holding out his hand. I just stared at it, not reacting. Shit, shit, I'm not normally one to get jealous, what's wrong with me? I didn't get the least bit upset when Chris spent a night grabbing drinks with Captain Valentine, just the two of them, and that was much more likely to lead to something. Was it because he was a guy? It's true that I wasn’t terribly pleased when Finn always started gushing around the captain, acting all starstruck like _ooh look at me, I'm young and impressionable and his speeches make me cry._ But that didn't even come close.

Chris had replaced me.

Danny still had his hand out towards me. I didn't not shake it to be mean. It's just that I didn't know how to react. Psychological shock, or post-traumatic stress, or whatever the doctors said, only in this case it didn't apply to the amputation, or even the virus.

Replaced.

Chris approached his new lieutenant and touched him on the arm about the biceps, which nearly sent me into a nervous fit. He lowered the man's arm, and the guy seemed to catch on. He apologized with a laugh, and held out his other hand, his left. I lifted mine, trembling. I felt weak. I felt worthless. I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear, go back and off myself in the underwater facility.

His hand was warm, his smile sincere and welcoming. He hadn’t even shown the slightest hint of disgust for my ravaged face. I wanted to cry.

“Danny, you're looking at a hero,” Chris began. “Lieutenant Nivans has put himself on the line for me on countless occasions. I owe him my life.”

“He's told me about a million times,” Danny told me, mock-whispering behind his hand and giving me a wink. “You know Captain, you can drop as many hints as you'd like, but don't count on me to cut my arm off for you!”

“I hope not!”

The two then laughed it up, guffawing like the redneck uncles that I despised at family reunions before I cut ties, who got shit-faced and said inappropriate things in front of the kids. I know that I was exaggerating, but that's honestly what it felt like. And in my disarray, I began to felt a tinge of anger. Were they making fun of me? Was this new lieutenant trying to make the point to Chris how stupid I was for having ripped my arm off? As if there had been all the time in the world to come up with a better idea! As if it had been easy to think straight with all the fear and the pain, being stared down by that 150-foot-long monstrosity. Maybe in hindsight, it was stupid, yeah, and I was being punished for it every day, but I had done my duty!

I wanted to scream. Stand up and spill everything that I felt in my heart at that moment. Insult that new lieutenant that had taken my place in the BSAA, scream to the heavens in protest like in a Greek tragedy. But instead I just grit my teeth the best that I could, because this guy with his clammy hands had at least made Chris laugh. How many years had it taken for me, to draw even the shadow of a smile from Captain Redfield? If I said anything I was going to break down crying, and that, I couldn't do in front of him. Not in front of Chris.

But he wasn't helping at all. He pressed me with questions. He wanted to know if I was doing well, how the surgery for the appendicitis went. The only response to that I could form in my head was that I never had appendicitis, you asshole. I lost my arm for the fourth time because I had been dumb enough to inject myself with the virus for you, to save you, Chris Redfield. So I might be weak, but you have no right to laugh, you have no right because I'm the one paying for my stupid mistakes. Me and me alone, you're doing just fine, you're in great shape and you went and replaced me with the first big oaf that came along. And you wouldn't even be here today if I hadn't been so stupid, so just shut up, just shut up Chris, and get the hell out of my room because if you and your precious lieutenant continue to smile at me like that, I'm going to burst into tears, and then it'll be you who’ll feel bad. It'll be you who looks dumb, and mean, at that. If I decided to make you understand to what extent it hurt that you had replaced me so easily, Chris, I promise that you wouldn't be laughing like that.

“That’s how it went,” I squeaked out, taking a deep breath to hold in everything I could.

I was as stupid for forgiving Chris as I was stupid for injecting myself with this goddamn virus in the first place. I was too stupid for loving him. He asked me something else that I hadn't even heard. I was still reeling over the last one. And then suddenly:

“Okay, that's enough, get out.”

It was Jake. Chris looked at him, surprised.

“What's up with you?”

“You guys are getting on my nerves, that's what's up with me,” Jake snapped. “Do I need to explain myself? This is my room and I don't wanna see your ugly mugs, so get out!”

Chris shot me a questioning glance. But Jake’s outburst had given me a bit of courage. Just a bit.

“You'd better listen to him, Captain,” I said meekly. “He's been having a rough time lately.”

“Okay,” Chris nodded as he got up. “You coming with us?”

“He’s staying put,” Jake replied, unwavering. Because of his… appendicitis, y'know. He's staying put.”

Chris seemed a bit surprised that I didn't rise to defend him with Jake speaking to him like that. But I didn't even try to react. I just wanted them to leave so I could cry.

“Okay then,” Chris sighed, looking from me to Jake, and then back. “Piers, I'll come get you after I've given my report, alright?”

I nodded, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor. When he had closed the door again, Jake flashed me a toothy grin.

“Who’s the best?”

I tried to respond, to return his smile, but I couldn't, I had a lump in my throat. But god only knows how grateful I was. I wanted to thank him for everything. Not just for putting Chris and his lieutenant outside, but also for having been there when the virus reawakened. For listening to me mope all the time, and for trying to help me with Chris. For giving me his antibodies, and also his friendship. But I couldn't manage. I went straight to the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

I breathed deeply, in through the nose. You have no reason to cry, I told myself. There were so many people who had it worse than me in this world. People who were taken as prisoners of war, people who scraped by in the most miserable of slums, people who died without ever getting to see the light of day. You're in no place to complain with your stupid jealousy.

I braced myself on the sink with my one arm and I leaned over to look at myself in the mirror. I hadn't done so since I had gotten out of the underwater facility, I had always tried to avoid my reflection as much as possible. But at that moment, in the dim light of the bathroom, I looked myself straight in the eyes.

I instantly shuddered in disgust. God, it was unsightly. It looked as if my face had turned rotten. I recoiled, horrified, and it hit me like a ton of bricks: I lose against Jill Valentine, I lose against the sexy chicks that Chris ogled in the magazines, okay, I accepted that. But I also lose against pretty much any other random guy on the planet. Those people who win the world records for the trashiest accomplishments were more desirable than me. My bigoted, racist 87-year-old grandpa was more desirable than me.

And Danny the lieutenant, I had called him ugly with his fat, chubby cheeks and his beady little pig eyes. At the height of my jealousy, I thought to myself: you're not gonna bang Chris Redfield with that ugly mug, lieutenant.

But look at you! Like you're one to talk! Look at that hellish gash in the middle of your face! At what point...fuck, at what point did I think that I had a chance? When did I lose contact with reality so badly that I thought I'd be able to seduce Chris with this face? With this body looking like mincemeat? How did I become so delusional?

Don't cry… don't cry…

_Crying’s only for women and fags_ , my father said. I had spent half my life trying to fight that prejudice.

Danny the fatty, with his sausage fingers and his beer belly, he blew me out of the water. Even if he weighed 300 pounds and quit bathing, he'd still have me beat, hands down. And on top of that you could tell at a glance that he was a good guy, whereas I was mean and jealous. In Edonia, I had been a jerk to Finn to the end, all because he followed the captain around like a little kid. If I were Chris and I had the choice between Danny or me, I wouldn't hesitate a second before choosing him. Shit, if I were Chris, I'd rather sleep with a leper before Piers Nivans the J’avo.

At some point Jake had started knocking on the door to the bathroom.

“Come out this second Nivans, you hear me?” he shouted. “C’mon, you’re too old to be crying in the toilet, jesus!”

I obeyed. Not because of his flimsy argument (and what, was he not too old to be giving me shit?), but out of respect and out of habit.

When I had woken up from my coma and that had first put me in a room with Jake, it hadn't been easy. We didn't get along very well, and among the many things we argued about nearly all the time, was the fact that Jake didn't want me to lock the bathroom door. Which is to say, those first few days, everyone thought I was going to kill myself, and they had asked Jake to watch over me. To me, it had been completely out of the question that I risk someone walking in on me and seeing the upper half of my mutated body, from my torso to my back. We had argued dozens of times about the subject, and then we finally stopped and began to trust each other, it just happened on its own. But if Jake asked me to open up, I opened. That's how it worked. And besides, I don't cry.

* * *

**Jake:**

Damn, poor guy! When he looked at me that little puppy face of his was on the verge of tears. He kept his head held high, he clenched his jaw, he tried to act tough and strong, but unlike Redfield, I actually noticed when Nivans was playing pretend. I felt bad for him. Okay, so he was a liar, and okay, so he wasn't progressing well with Redfield, but he certainly didn't deserve for their reunion to go like that. He had been looking forward to that moment so much!  

I mean what was I supposed to do? I'm not capable of comforting anybody, I don't know how to say things to help people feel better. In face of his eyes that were searching for some sort of help, I did the only thing I knew how to do: be an asshole.

“Y’know what, Two-Face? Never mind, you can go back and cry in the toilets, actually.”

I expected him to tell me off, to say that I was heartless and it was because of things like that that I couldn't hold on to Sherry. Or for him to laugh, why not? But neither was the case. He simply hung his head in submission and turned right around back towards the bathroom. That broke my heart.

“Wait! I was just kidding!”

I grabbed him by the t-shirt. It's a habit I had adopted with him; Piers didn't like to be grabbed by the arm, since it cut off his freedom to move.

“I was kidding Nivans, stay here.”

He was facing me once again. He had his hand covering his face and he stood there, not moving. I didn't realize he was crying until I heard a sob. So I moved his hand away from his face, and we looked at one another. His eyes were full of tears.

“Jake I don't want you to think that…”

Still with that damn unhealthy pride! Who did you think you were fooling, now? Who could miss the tremble in your voice, the redness in your eyes? In principle, I detested crybabies. When I saw someone crying, I stuck it to them. I humiliated them. But this was Piers. It was horrible to see him so devastated. Since the time I had found him sitting on the ground in the underwater facility, he hadn't complained even once about having lost an arm or being disfigured for life. He surmounted it all. Redfield was a real piece of work to put him in this state. And that moved me more than I could have ever thought was possible. Those silent tears that fell all the way down his mutated face because he couldn't manage to wipe all of them away, his way of sniffling, still trying to hold something back but failing to hide the trembling that racked his body - it gave me the blues like I'd never felt before.

I grabbed my IV stand with one hand, and Nivans’ shoulder with the other, and I steered us over to my bed. He sat up on the side, brought his knees in close to his chest, buried his head against them, and only then did he open the floodgates. I heard him let out a deep sob, and I felt his whole body tremble as I held my hand against his back. I didn't know what to do, so I tried to copy what I had seen on TV in this kind of situation.

“There, there… it's gonna be okay…”

And all that bullshit. After hearing Nivans fantasize for hours about how their reunion was gonna go, each scenario even cheesier than the last, I had been thrown for a loop seeing Chris come in with that potato in uniform. So for Nivans, I can't even imagine. Even if deep down, I was convinced that Chris didn't have the intention to hurt him. In fact, he probably thought Nivans would like to meet his successor, it was like a way to keep him included. If Redfield totally botched things, it was because he didn't have the least idea of who his lieutenant was or how he responded outside an assault unit. And that was because Nivans hid as much as he could from him. But despite his ineptitude, I was still firmly of the belief that Redfield loved him in his own way.

Without letting go of Piers’ back, I grabbed a box of tissues and I rested it gently against his leg to let them know they were there. He babbled out a thank you and blew his nose loudly in a tissue, and then gave me an absolutely miserable look.

“‘m sorry.”

“Don't.”

Like he was the only one to ever cry. Like I was still holding up perfectly myself, stuck here night and day.

He finally finished blowing, then he tossed the used tissue at the trash can sitting next to the door. He missed.

“I hate that I only have one arm now,” he said, without even looking at me.

Boy did it feel incredible to hear him say that. Finally, he accepted it! Finally, after all this time, he could stop deluding himself that he wasn't suffering, a fact which only served to protect Redfield. Of course he was disgusted to have lost an arm, anybody would be in his position. Just because he had lost it saving his beloved captain didn't mean that he had to be happy about having lost an arm. It was honestly fucked up.

“Right, yeah. That sucks.”

“And I hate looking like Two-Face.”

Well okay, that was kinda my fault maybe, with all my digs.

“You're not that ugly!”

He shot me a look, unamused.

“I'm not joking, I swear! Your mutation is neat, it looks styled. I've seen J’avos with eight eyes, you don't even come close to looking that nasty! It doesn't even take up half your face! And you want me to be honest with you, I thought that your face looked kinda dumb before. You looked too much like a pretty boy and you seemed annoying. I prefer you this way.”

He made a sound in between a stifled laugh and a sob. Yes, now we were getting somewhere! The worst part was that it was true. Mutant Nivans was cool. I continued:

“And besides, a scar doesn't change anything. When I got this scar on my cheek, I thought it was gonna make me look badass ‘n’ hot, but it really didn't. I still had the same ugly mug.

This time, I got him to laugh a little for real.

“Chris is an ass,” he hazarded a bit timidly.

“The biggest. I can't believe you're only realizing that now, I've been tryin’ to tell you for ages!”

He gave a sort of half-smile, not quite convinced. He threw another tissue towards the trash. Little by little, he was calming down.

“What did you think of him, the lieutenant?”

“Who, Piglet? Dumb, ugly, good-for-nothing. What else?”

He laughed, rubbing his eyes. I managed to make him laugh even in times like these, I was proud of myself. I felt useful, like I had done something right.

We were in the middle of gleefully bitching about the poor lieutenant when Redfield barged back in without knocking.

“By the way Piers, I needed to talk to you about-”

He stopped short, stunned. What had taken him so much by surprise? That Nivans was on my bed? That I had my hand on his back? That he was more or less pressed up against me? Or rather that his face was a mess of dried tears and snot, that there was a mountain of tissues on the ground, and that his good eye was as red and swollen as the mutated one?

Whatever the case, Piers was up in an instant. I think that in his list of top five catastrophic disasters that could rip the universe apart, there was “Ohmygod Chris saw me crying.” And using his messed up logic that he followed when it came to their relationship, he just cut and run. He barreled past Redfield at the door with his head down and booked it, like a shoplifter caught red-handed.

And Redfield… oh fuck, Redfield. It's been six thousand years since writing was invented by humanity. Chris Redfield had six thousand years of fiction behind him, from pagan myths to made-for-TV Lifetime movies, centuries upon centuries of literature, philosophy, science, etcetera, and all of the knowledge and wisdom in the world accumulated over the entire history of mankind were saying, “WELL RUN AFTER HIM, GOD DAMN IT!” What godforsaken hole have you been living in, to just stand there doing nothing when you see a guy who loves you running away?

Pfft… but honestly I wasn’t even too surprised. Between the one who took off like Cinderella and the other who just sat there gawking like a fish, I don't know why I even still bothered with these two hopeless idiots.

Redfield watched as the door slammed behind his former lieutenant, and then he turned towards me, looking like a complete moron in his shock.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked, like it was a perfectly natural occurrence.

Facing his calmness and his complete unawareness, as if Piers had just lost it for no good reason, which was so far from the truth it wasn't even funny, I felt the anger welling up.

“HE LOVES YOU, THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG!” I exploded. “For christ’s sake! What is it gonna take for you to get that? He's been in love with you for years, and all it took was him losing an arm and you replaced him with the first guy who came along! What the hell do you think?”

Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I had promised Nivans that I'd keep his secret. But over time, I had seen him get nowhere, I had seen him suffer, I had seen him cry, and that made me want to cry, too. Where the hell was this gonna go, this relationship, if nobody ever said anything, nobody ever knew? How much rejection and loneliness was Nivans capable of withstanding? I didn't want to find out, I had had enough. It was absolute garbage that Piers was still trying to protect him after already giving an arm and a leg for him. Well- an arm and half a body full of scars, I guess. He was the one who needed help right now, and Redfield definitely owed him at least that. Jesus, he didn't even have any idea about all the shit Nivans had gone through just last week, when his mutated arm had grown back.

All of that was over now, I was certain, as I watched Chris’ face, his eyes growing wide with surprise. But the was no joy in those eyes, no hint of any positive gleam whatsoever. Shit, I hope I didn't just monumentally fuck things up.

“Enough with the innuendos, Muller. Your jokes aren't very funny,” he tried, lacking any sort of conviction. What an absolute...

“DO I LOOK LIKE I'M JOKING?”

Well, no turning back now. I guess we'd just have to wait and see. They couldn’t have kept going like that, in any case. So c’mon Redfield, time for you two to stop perpetually giving me stomach ulcers and for you to finally worm the truth out of him!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you guys still with me? I kept my promise, see? Is it how you all imagined it? I personally couldn't see Piers confessing himself XD  
> In your opinion, what's going to happen to our favorite pairing…?  
> I don't find it easy to “break” the characters, I already kind of did it in my last fic, and I always got the impression that if they were real, they'd make it through. (I'm a horrible person XD) But well, fortunately, it’s just a fanfic!  
> I don't know if you guys guessed, but the new character Danny isn't an OC, it's the guy who appears for all of two and a half seconds in the cinematic at the end of Chris’ campaign, the new lieutenant who basically seemed to replace Piers. (When I watched that, I was already in tears because of his death, I had already composed the intro and the outline of my three body paragraphs for my letter of insult to Capcom, and I was OUTRAGED that Chris replaced him so quickly? Like WTF? WHAT ABOUT OUR FEELINGS, CAPCOM? OUR FEELINGS?! D:)  
> And I was nothing but mean to this character! I'm a little ashamed because he didn't do anything and in the cinematic he looked like a nice guy… but he replaced the wrong person!  
> Well you're all caught up now! I really hope you guys liked this chapter, and I hope you're liking the story's turn of events! (And if you despised Danny, don't worry, he won't be coming back any time soon!) I want to give you all a big thanks for reading and learning your reviews, and I wish you all well until next time!  
>   
>  _Translator's note:_  
>  _Thank you all for your patience, I know it took a while longer for this chapter, but with good reason! This one's the longest out of all them, and I've also been a bit busy lately, I apologize. I hope you enjoyed this one, a lot is changing in the story! I hope to have the next chapter up sooner than I had this one, so hope to see you all for the next one!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! Hope you're all doing well!

**Post-injection 11.**

* * *

**Chris:**

Piers? In love with me? Again with the insinuations. It was just like Muller to pull my leg with his awful dirty jokes, but this time it seemed to be more than just his ordinary attempt at provoking me; he looked like he couldn't be more serious, angry, even. And Piers, I had seen him with my own eyes, after he had sprung up from the bed and had pushed past me to run out the door: his face had been smeared, unmistakably red from crying. That didn't seem like him at all! My right-hand man, my savior, my dear soldier that remained steadfast despite all the scars and damage done to his body. Piers was gifted with the ability to keep cool under the greatest pressure, I had been absolutely dumbfounded to see him looking like that. Him? In love with me?

“I don't know what you're playing at Muller, but don't even bother. Piers is not homosexual.”

“And how the hell would you know?”

“I know him well.”

“That’s where you're wrong,” he countered icily. “Piers is gay. He's always been. It's the whole reason he broke things off with his family ten years ago.”

“Nonsense!” I objected, indignant. How much did he even know about Piers? He had only known my lieutenant for a few months, I had known him for years. “He cut ties with his family because they all converted to the Church of Scientology and he refused to do the same.”

Seeing the look of pity on Muller’s face, my certainty wavered. If Piers was close enough with him to talk about what happened with his family, something he had always been reluctant to discuss with me, then why would he have lied to him rather than me? Especially since his version made a lot of sense.

After a few seconds of looking incredulous, Jake burst out laughing.

“Are you for real? You actually swallowed that? And did you also believe him when he said he ripped off his fucking arm with his bare hands because it was his duty as a soldier?”

“Uhh…”

Everything seemed to make much more sense, all of a sudden. But still…

“If you don't think it's that simple, all you have to do is ask him. What are you waiting for, go after him!”

And that's how I found myself sprinting towards the parking lot. According to the receptionist, Piers had already left the hospital. He couldn't have gotten all that far, but if he had managed to catch a bus, I was screwed.

As I scrambled to get in my car and start the engine, I asked myself what I could possibly say to him if he confessed that he was indeed in love with me. But I really had a hard time wrapping my head around the mere idea of it at the moment, I just couldn't believe it. Piers was so spirited, so serious, and oh so young! Why would he possibly be interested in an old, tired veteran like me?

The thing Jake had said about the conflict between Piers and his family was troubling. That made me question more than anything. Piers had never mentioned anything like that to me, he had only admitted that odd story about his family’s mass conversion, and even that little bit he had done so begrudgingly.

I personally didn't grow up with any religion and so I knew absolutely nothing about it. All that I knew about Scientology was that it had something to do with Tom Cruise. So I took my lieutenant’s word for it, because why wouldn't I? And even if the story seemed a little far-fetched, I never really thought to question it. But now that Jake had planted those seeds of doubt, it all started to fall apart. And in its place, things began to make sense.

For example, back at the Armed Forces Conference. It was a day of panels and discussions where all the bigwigs in the branches of the US military and lobbyists of military interests convened, arms makers and investors included. As founders of the BSAA, Jill and I were on the guest list. It was three years ago and Piers, a Major in the Army, was also in attendance, and I remember being surprised when he asked everyone to join hands and say grace before our dinner. Wasn’t that a Christian thing? And at the end of his remarks, I had clearly heard an _Amen_ at the end. I had been a little confused, but I had never thought for a second that Piers could possibly have lied to me. I just thought to myself what a complicated matter religion truly was, and how it probably wouldn't be the best to potentially cause a diplomatic incident by asking the general next to me if Scientology was a branch of Christianity. And besides, right after that, everyone had started digging in to the deluxe seafood feast. Because while our soldiers were out there dying on the front lines, we the top brass were gorging ourselves like pigs.

I always dreaded these types of events. It was just a bunch of old farts resting on their laurels, showing off their medals while they hadn't been anywhere close to the front lines in over twenty years. I would have quit attending them a long time ago if it weren't for Jill.

Jill was always the only woman in the assembly, and she had to rebuff comments that were insulting beyond belief. There was no end to the attendees mistaking her for a server, a secretary, or a stenographer, even though she was wearing the same uniform, with the same medals. When we would explain that we founded the BSAA together, the generals took that as: _Chris Redfield wouldn't have been able found the BSAA without the support of his lovely wife who sustained him through cooking for him, giving him foot massages, and satisfying him sexually._ I wasn't even exaggerating in the slightest. And when Jill finally managed to get it through their thick skulls that she was a captain and that she didn't owe that to anyone but herself, their behavior became even more revolting. After five or six glasses of champagne, they asked her knowingly if she managed to keep her chest so well-rounded because she didn't have any kids. They asked about her age to calculate how much time was left for her before menopause. They berated her for bringing shame to her husband by taking a man's job, or that advised her to get married quickly before it was too late. And at the end of the night, they would all try to put their hands on her ass.

Jill had been absolutely impressive. Real classy. She put them all in their place with some very cutting remarks. But when it was all over, I took her to a bar and we got completely shitfaced. When I proposed that we refused the invitation next time she told me, _I'm not going to give them that pleasure. I earned my place just as much as they did._ I admired her a lot for that. And I continued to go to these god awful conferences full of corruption and dirty money for those times afterwards, when it was just the two of us at the end of the day. When we could take a load off and laugh, laugh at this battle that was lost before it started, at these situations that weren't funny in the slightest, and at these disgusting people who wrote our paychecks.

But at that conference three years ago, I had been a bit more motivated to go because I had heard I’d get to meet the father of my new lieutenant. Piers Nivans had recently signed on to my squad and I grew a little bit more ecstatic each day seeing the incredible talent of this young man, both as a sniper and a leader. Despite my reservations about the subject, I resolved to shake the hand of Major Nivans and to tell him all the great praise I had for his son, what an honor it was to work with him, and the bright career that lay ahead of him. All he gave in response was a disdainful _ahem_ as he looked away, and then he turned to Jill and asked:

“Miss, go and fetch me a glass of champagne, if you please.”

I asked myself how a man so vile could have possibly raised a kid so incredibly serious and loyal as my young lieutenant.

When I saw Piers the next day and I told him that I had met his father, I was met with a look of equal disdain. Has he already been _in love with me_ back then? Because the only that I had picked up was that with the Nivans, you didn't mess around when it came to religion.

I found Piers at the bus stop. He had put on his hoodie, with the right sleeve torn off. It was my sister who had done that. Normally, Piers would tie it off in a knot or staple it closed, depending on if it was long or short sleeve, but Claire had ripped it off altogether, saying it made him look badass. He liked that, being someone who had always paid a good deal of attention to appearances before the incident. I liked it, too. It was less depressing than having one arm of his shirt just hanging there emptily like those first few days.

There was enough room for six people under the shelter at the bus stop, but he was the only one sitting down. The rest of the waiting passengers stood off to the side, either frightened or disgusted. Piers didn't seem to care. He had kicked his feet up across the bench, his hand in the pocket of his styled hoodie and his hood pulled up over his face as much as it would allow. To anyone else, he would have looked like a real bad boy, some rebel without a cause just drifting through. But considering Piers’ personality, it was all too adorable.

And then I remembered that this kid, this young _man,_ was supposedly in love with me, and that immediately brought that train of thought to a halt. I shouldn't be thinking these things.

I pulled up in front of the bus stop and I rolled down the passenger-side window.

“Piers!” I called.

Everyone at the bus stop stared at us. When Piers looked up and saw it was me, he straightened up a little in his seat but he didn't say a thing.

“Get in. I'll give you a ride.”

He hesitated a bit before his reply.

“No thanks, I'm good.”

“C’mon, get in. We need to talk.”

He raised his voice slightly.

“I said it's fine.”

He was getting on my nerves. Why the defiance? If he were still under my command I wouldn’t have let him talk to me like that. I used my Captain's voice.

“Get in the car, soldier, that's an order!”

As the words left my mouth I felt a sobering sense of déjà vu. Only this time, Piers listened. He swore, rolled his eyes, and dragged his feet, but he came and sat next to me in the car. That's a good soldier.

I drove off as the small crowd watched us all the while. I wondered if they thought I was a father coming to find his disgruntled rebel of a son. Two hours ago, that would have made me laugh. Now, the thought of it was troubling. Especially if the truth turned out to be more sordid still.

“Everything okay?” I asked Piers. “Why'd you run off like that?”

I didn't mention the fact that he had definitely been crying. I didn’t want him to shut down or try to run again.

He was having some trouble with his seat belt, but as I was driving I wasn't able to help him. Fumbling with the clip, he responded, frustrated:

“I don't know if you noticed, but I’ve now lost my job, my housing, and my freedom to leave the state of Nevada. I've got no family, no education, only half my arms, and half my face. So yeah, I'm fine, but for the love of god, Captain, don't rub it in!”

I was stunned. I knew the details of Piers’ situation, surely, but I hadn't thought that he was suffering so greatly. He usually seemed to be coping okay. But would he even have told me if he wasn't doing well? I might have been too blind. Perhaps I thought that he was holding it together well because I wanted him to. And perhaps I thought he was straight because I wanted him to be.

Speaking of which, it was high time to know the truth. I had tried to come up with a subtle approach, but it was a tough situation, he'd feel like he was being trapped in. I decided instead to be direct, and to do it quickly.

“Jake said that you love me,” I stated, keeping my voice neutral.

Piers abruptly let go of the seat belt he had been struggling with for awhile now, the whirring of the belt filling the silence where there should have been an answer. Only after the dull thud of the clasp reaching the top of the mechanism did he react, straightening up slowly before going still again, his eyes fixed on the road, his face going pale as a statue.

“So?” he responded with a perfectly controlled voice. “Don't tell me you actually believed him.”

I didn't reply, I waited. I didn't want any more of these responses that were as evasive as they were meaningless. I wanted the truth. If he loved me, then I wanted him to say it. And if he didn't, then that he at least deny it with more conviction than that, because judging by his reaction, I was beginning to think that everything that Muller had said was true.

Another minute passed, before he added:

“That's ridiculous. You know for a fact that I hate fags!”

His voice trembled that time. That pulled at my heartstrings. In the military, homophobia and sexism were largely accepted. It brought the soldiers together, it seemed. I can't count how many times during drills or basic training I had heard the captain motivate the troop using homophobic insults. _Faster, you bunch of sissies! Show me that you aren't a load of miserable faggots!_ You heard that twenty times a day on base. And never, never had I ever heard Piers resort to that kind of demeaning treatment. Never, to my knowledge, had I ever heard him tell a homophobic joke in the canteen or in the barracks. Actually, come to think of it, I had a hard time imagining Piers tell a joke at all, politically correct or not.

In any case, here, his defense couldn't sound more false, it couldn't sound more desperate. I wish I could have stopped there and believed him, not insisting any further. But I needed to know.

“According to Jake,” I replied, trying to keep my tone calm and pacifying, “the reason why you’re not on speaking terms with your family is because you're gay.”

And then Piers suddenly became furious.

“Why do you believe Jake over me? He's an asshole, you’ve said so yourself! I served under your command for the years, the least you could do is trust me a little!”

Once again, I said nothing, and a silence settled over us. Piers broke it, his voice bitter.

“What's it matter, anyways? Let's say that I love you, which I don't, what would that change?”

Everything. Everything would change. My life as well as his- or maybe nothing, I didn’t know. I had no idea. I had no idea how I'd react if I actually managed to pry a confession out of him. Did I love him, myself? Was I ready, at 40 years old, to throw myself into a gay romance with a kid, and an amputee, at that? Was it really right to force him to talk I was just going to send him packing?

But how could I even hope to answer any of those questions if their base was nonexistent? There was a bubble of lies between us as big as a house and it was time for it to pop.

“Piers, I have the right to know. I'm only going to ask you one more time, and I want you to tell me the truth. We won't worry about the consequences for now. If you have even the least bit of respect for me, be honest. Is it true that you love me, yes or no?”

Piers thought for a while, which to me already meant yes. But I waited for his answer. Finally, he took a deep breath, and looking me straight in the eyes, he admitted:

“No. I respect you tremendously Captain, but I'm not in love with you. Sorry.”

He was lying! I didn't expect it to make me so mad. Three years of working together, during which I put my complete and utter trust in this man, and he lied directly to my face!

Had I accepted his answer, had I taken that last, desperate attempt at giving me an out, maybe we could have gone back to normal. But I was too blinded with rage to be aware of that. I pulled over to the closest curbside, braking hard before putting the car in park. Piers, who had never finished getting buckled up, nearly went through the windshield. I caught him by the arm just in time, and in one swift motion I put my other arm around his neck, I pulled him towards me and I kissed him.

I guess we'd have to do it by force, then.

If he was so determined to hide the truth, I was going to go find it myself.

Piers resisted for a whole two seconds. Two horrible seconds where I had the time to wonder as he struggled, to ask myself if I hadn't taken a huge gamble and lost. If Jake hadn't led me horribly astray. If that was the case, then I hadn't just failed to trust my former lieutenant, I had used force against him, I _was using_ force against him. Abusing him. Him, out of anyone else, in his state, with his arm, and his sacrifice… God, and I…

And then without warning, he gave in. He stopped struggling and returned the kiss, and then some. And he did it with such ardor, such love that was profoundly more intense than I could ever have imagined. It was tangible, pure, and absolutely real. His tongue glided across my lips, he lowered his hand on to my thigh… and he admit to it all. He loved me. Here was the truth that I had demanded. But I absolutely had not foreseen how violently things were about to blow up in my face.

When Muller had told me that my lieutenant was in love with me, that had definitely got me wondering about a slew of questions. The first thing that I had thought about of course, was sex. What would it be like to have a hot and heavy relationship with… Piers? With another man? With an amputee? With someone who was half J’avo? Could the C-Virus be sexually transmitted? And then: what would people think if I turned gay overnight? I pictured myself announcing it to my sister and to Jill over dinner, having a big coming-out celebration in the military, going out to San Francisco to participate in a gay pride parade wearing nothing but a thong… I had imagined it a bit mockingly, with a certain distance. I essentially laughed at it because I couldn't believe it. They were all just meaningless clichés. And when I became fully aware of just how in love with me Piers really was, of how deeply-seated it was for him, the sex and the opinions of others were the least of my worries.

The first image that came to my troubled mind was… Piers… ripping his arm off. I couldn't keep hiding behind his reassurances anymore, it was impossible not to think about. Like Jake had said: this man had torn off his own arm for me. He had dragged himself to the syringe and injected himself with the C-Virus without hesitating, all out of love _for me_.

_I did it for the BSAA_ , was what he had hurried to tell me after the fact. _For the future_. And I had believed him, because it was more comfortable for me to. And it was only now, several months after the incident, that I realized the role that I had played in all of it.

If Piers loved me, that made me directly responsible for everything that had happened to him.

I couldn't stomach it. It was too much too bear. Dear god, I had destroyed this man's life.

I came to my senses when I felt his tongue brush against mine. I pushed him back. He tried to kiss me again and I pushed him back harder. I kept him pinned against the seat, holding him there firmly by the shoulder.

It took him awhile to come back down to Earth. And then he smiled. He gave me such a big smile that I had never seen on his face, one that was charming and blissful. Totally natural and at ease, and yet it was like looking at a complete stranger.

The more that I became aware of the extent to which he loved me, the more that I was terrified. He must have read that terror on my face, because that smile that was so becoming on him quickly faded, leaving behind an utterly disoriented expression. And then with a terribly hasty voice, he said:

“We can just act like nothing's changed if you want. Say it never happened. I can forget. I don't mind, I'll do it. I promise if you want me to forget, I'll forget.”

That just killed me to hear. He was really willing to do that for me? To preserve my peace of mind when it was me who was the cause of it all? Was he truly capable of throwing his feelings away like garbage?

God, of course he was, this was a guy who ripped off his own arm we were talking about. Next to that, feelings amounted to almost nothing.

“Say something, please,” he murmured. “Anything. I won't blame you. Come on, can't you tell me what's going on? Because right now I'm not sure I understand anything anymore.”

He looked hopelessly lost, plagued with worry. I almost reached out to offer him some support but I stopped myself. It would have been so simple to just wrap him in my arms, hold him tight, and comfort him. Tell him it was okay. That everything was going to be fine.

“Piers…”

Seeing him so disoriented like that nearly broke me. And in holding back from cupping his cheek earlier, I realized how many times I had failed to do so in the past. I had held his hand in the street, I had ruffled his hair every morning before leaving for work… Ever since he had returned from the underwater facility in one piece, I had felt the urge to be more tactile with him. I guess I wanted to show him that I still cared about him despite his appearance, that I was simply happy that he come back alive. I hadn't really held back from doing so, and as a result I had given him so much false hope.

It was no surprise, then, that the poor kid didn't understand a thing. It was awful. I had acted without knowing, but it was awful. Terrible and cruel.

“You should have told me sooner,” I mumbled, as much for myself as it was for him. “I put you up at my place, and I… I let you sleep against me on the couch, and… and all those times where I hugged you close…”

The words came out slow and painful. Every moment that I had been tender with him, that I had wanted to show how much I cared for him, how much I valued what he had done for me, was now twisted into something so cruel- each memory that I had remembered with fondness now obscured by a shroud of doubt and guilt.

What I had been trying to say is that I had made things ambiguous, and that I was truly sorry for it because it had certainly made it more painful for Piers in the end. But he interpreted it as if I felt like he had abused our relationship, a realization that I had come to all too late. His eyes suddenly shot daggers at me.

“I never once made advances towards you,” he seethed. “I never said anything and I never took advantage of you. Maybe you're disgusted by it but I never did anything wrong.”

All I seemed to be able to do was to cause him more pain. Everything was going wrong, spinning out of control, and I felt powerless to stop it. I preferred to shut up rather than botch things up yet again. After a few minutes he tried again, a bit more gently.

“Captain, are you sure we can't just forget this whole thing? Things got a bit out of control, that's all. It’s not a big deal. Jake is a jackass that's full of shit and you know it.”

“I can't just forget everything like that, Piers.”

Piers slumped back down against the back if the seat with an exasperated sigh.

“Yeah. You only forget when it suits you.”

“... And I'm not your captain anymore.”

He clenched his jaw. Maybe it wasn't the best time for me to say that, but he needed to return to reality. He needed to detach himself from me.

“I asked you to trust me,” he ground out bitterly as he evaded responding to my comment.

It was true. I had been so stupid. I could have believed him or at least acted like I did when he insisted the second time that he didn't love me. Now it was too late.

Piers was fuming. He was staring straight ahead with a death glare, trying to murder the windshield with his eyes. Finally, he shot me a glance.

“Now what?”

I had dreaded that question. I responded exactly how I shouldn't have.

“I… I've got work to do.”

Dead silence. I was an absolute monster.

“Should I drop you off?”

“What are you going to do?” Piers demanded, his voice trembling with rage. “Accept the mission? Head back out to Alaska? All because Jake-”

“I need to be alone, Piers,” I cut him off, raising my voice more than I had intended. “I need space. Where can I drop you off?”

He gave me the look that I deserved.

“Don't bother.”

He opened the door, having to turn and reach around with his remaining arm, and he got out. He had barely slammed the door when I took off for anywhere but here. Piers, I’m sorry for everything I inflicted upon you. I should have paid more attention. I should have stopped you from falling in love with me. If I had, I'd probably still be bumming around seedy bars in Edonia right now, and you'd be the captain like you deserved. You would have saved the world. You would have been great.

Instead I had failed you, Piers. I had failed you as a captain and as a friend… I had let you down and then left you high and dry. I'm sorry, so sorry, but I made my decision. And now in the aftermath all I had left was to try and untangle this mess of emotions on my own.

All the guilt, all the blame, the misery and the mutilation- it was a lot to try and process. Everything swirled together in my mind as I drove along a stretch of highway, the city outskirts quickly fading on the horizon as I sped away from where it all went so wrong.

With some distance behind me, I was able to breathe more easily without so much of the crushing weight of the revelations from earlier. And little by little, with a clearer head, I was able to reflect on how I felt. This confession, what effect did it have on me, deep down? If I set aside his self-sacrifice and my sense of culpability for one moment, what did I feel? How did _I_ feel about the kiss? In another world, could I have been happy with him?

It wasn't impossible. Piers was one of only three people that I truly loved in my life, along with Claire and Jill. Of course, I wasn’t gay and the problem would come up sooner or later, but I wasn’t exactly the staunchest straight guy on the planet. I had already had feelings for another man before. Or at least I had thought so, until I had seen all the deception, all the perversion he was capable of, and the pleasure he took in manipulating me and Jill, when we were still just a young couple at the time.

I'm incredibly glad to say that nothing real ever happened between me and Wesker. But if I had found myself alone with him down a dark, forsaken corridor of the Spencer mansion with zombies pounding on the windows on all sides, and he had asked me to give him a blowjob in face of our impending doom, it pains me to admit but I would have done so willingly, that's how much I admired him, and how much sway he had over me.

Those unsettling memories reminded me that though I had believed Piers to be too mature for that kind of thing, I had been there and knew what it was. What I couldn't accept, however, were the sacrifices. Too many people had died for me, for my cause, and I couldn't take any more of it. I wasn’t the hero that everyone took me for, I was just a soldier. I had rank, but I was still a soldier who had nightmares at night and who felt fear underneath that bulletproof vest. The one who had saved the world was Jake Muller. And the ones who has saved Jake Muller were Piers and Sherry. The younger generation would be just fine on its own. Nobody needed to die or mutilate themselves for me.

I've made plenty of mistakes, I was only human. I hated myself for having been unspeakably cruel to Piers, but I couldn't stand to have a relationship of any kind with someone so precious, who had so many wonderful qualities and had so much going for them, but practiced self-destruction in my name. Who could? Who, in my position, could rightly listen to this kid say he loved them and take advantage?

I had only ever wanted the best for Piers, truly. I had wanted to take him by the hand and lead him everywhere with me. I had hoped to help him enjoy his life again after the incident. I had maybe been blind to miss how much he had been in love with me, but he shouldn't have hid the fact that he was unhappy, on his part. And I would gladly have devoted the rest of the days in my old age to change that, instead of chasing after BOWs in subzero temperatures. But for this kid I was poison.

So I reported into HQ and I took the mission. I needed to put some distance between us. Piers was tough and practical, he could get over a bit of heartbreak. He’d have Claire, Sherry, and Jake to help him recover. The scars that he had proven capable of inflicting on himself for me, on the other hand, would never heal.

* * *

**Jake:**

Heh, I bet someone was gonna be gettin’ some real soon! Okay, so maybe I was just saying that and Nivans was in the process of receiving the rejection of the century as we speak. But I didn't think so. And even if that was the case, it was better that it happened now, anyways, all the tension, the things left unsaid, and those bottled-up, self-sabotaged hopes of his would have driven me totally bonkers. If Two-Face got shot down, I'd take care of raising his morale back up. In the noble pursuit of helping out my fellow man, I thought I'd like to start with the basics like comforting someone after a break up, instead of jumping straight to the hardcore stuff like ripping off an arm or living like an outcast.

But if it worked out, on the other hand, it would be all thanks to me! They had been going nowhere on their own, those two numbskulls. If that was the case then I’m asking to be the best man at the wedding and the godfather of their firstborn child, nothing less

It kinda sucked that they weren't still here though. Not that I particularly cared to be present for their declaration of love, but I was doing to know what actually happened in the end.

Since I was feeling restless, I called up my girlfriend.

“Jake!” Sherry answered, overjoyed. “Hold on a sec, let me find somewhere quieter… How's it going?”

“Good. You wanna know what I just did?”

Then I told her everything that happened. Unlike Claire, who thought that her brother was too straight to succumb to the charms of our salvaged survivor, Sherry thought that it was honestly possible, like me. I loved it when she sides with me over Claire. It didn't seem like much but it was super rare. I know it's immature and all that, but when she does, it feels like I'm her favorite.

Sherry reacted the same as me, which is to say that she became a bit hysterical. She made me retell about ten times how Redfield nearly took out the door trying to pull it open instead of pushing it in his pursuit of Nivans.

“Nooo! And what face did he make, when he realized? And what did he do when you told him at the beginning? And when he didn't believe you?”

“He had the dumbest look from start to finish.”

She laughed.

“I can't believe that you told him, Jake. I really can't believe it! Do you think they're… working things out?”

“C’mon, we both know that's not how you were really going to end that question.”

We kept up the banter and the gossip about those two for a bit. We cracked a few jokes, placed a few bets; we created a whole plan to crash their honeymoon to Bora Bora; we argued over which of us would be stuck with Nivans over a night of tissues and Haägen-Dazs if he had been rejected; we were having a great conversation like we hadn't had in a while. But I mean it would have been even better if Sherry were here with me in person instead of on the other end of the line.

“When are you coming over?”

“Ah, sorry,” she replied. “I can't come to visit today, I promised my landlady that I'd help her clean her fridge and taken longer than I expected, there was a bunch of ice built up that needed to be chipped away.”

Christ, you gotta be kidding me. A fuckin’ freezer? I felt totally left in the cold, no pun intended.

“Fuck the old hag! C'mon, come visit!”

“Tomorrow, I promise. I can't today, sorry Jake.”

And like always, my anger got the best of me.

“What, are you her maid now?”

“Don't. She's old, it's only reasonable that I help her out a bit. She’s renting me a room for almost nothing, even though I don't have anyone to co-sign for me and I'm unemployed. I owe her at least that much.”

“Don't act like your life is so hard. I'd put you up in a five-star hotel in a second if you only asked and you know it.”

That got Miss Goody Two-Shoes ticked off as well.

“Not this again! Listen Jake, I already came to see you yesterday and I'm coming to see you tomorrow. But today I can't, I'm sorry, I’ve got stuff I have to do and I don't see what your money has anything to do with it.”

“Yeah, okay… you won't touch a cent of my money, because you're not like that. But when that old whack job treats you like shit, it's totally fine, that's no threat to your pride.”

“She doesn't treat me like shit, Jake, I'm just doing her a favor. Do you know what a favor is?”

And off we went. We got in a fight again. Our conversations were ending up that way more and more often these days. But hell, why would she rather clean a fridge than hang out with me? I just didn't get it.

We fought and we fought. I'll spare the bloody details but it wasn't pretty. And then, well, as things got pretty heated I might have called her a dirty whore. So she told me that I could go fuck myself because she wasn't coming to see me anymore, and that I'd better have a three-paragraph apology ready, with an intro and conclusion, when I called her back after I had calmed down. Then she hung up on me, that skank.

Whatever, like I care. She can stay with her stupid fuckin’ fridge, that bitch. See if I apologize.

My phone rang, and I prepared myself for a second round of yelling, but it was Nivans. Boy was I glad it was him.

“Well?”

Aaand he was pissed too. It must not have gone well with his beloved Captain. I couldn't catch a word that he was angrily spewing into the phone, it was loud as hell where he was, probably in the street. When he was finally done shouting and stopped to catch his breath, I cut in:

“I didn't get any of that, what happened now?”

“Why did you tell him?” came Nivans, his voice bristling.

Well there was my answer. Things didn't go well.

“It was going on too long, he needed to know. You couldn't keep going like that. How did he react?”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, JAKE!”

He went back to raving a lunatic, without letting me get a single word in. Okay, so I was sorry that his plan to wait for Redfield to come around had been messed up because of me (and again, I'm not sure that it would have worked out any better if I hadn't said anything), but he said some very not nice things that I would have thought beneath him. Something like: It’s no wonder that nobody likes you because you're a horrible person, you deserve to burn in the ninth circle of hell for the next thirty generations, etc etc. And before he rudely hung up on me as well, he let loose a final, and terribly melodramatic:

“I'll never forget this, Muller. Never.”

Well that did it. What a shitty day.

What was their deal, honestly? It was for Nivans that I did that. It hurt so much to watch him go on like that, he deserved a better life. I had been sure that it was gonna work. Okay, so I was wrong, and? It was still better this way, right? People get rejected all the time. Now he'd be able to forget Redfield and move on instead of living in his fantasies that never got him anywhere. Redfield wasn’t the only man on earth, there were millions of guys out there who were more kissable than him if you asked me. Hey, why didn't Nivans try to date someone in his own age group for a change? And less than 250 pounds? It was hardly the end of the world, there was no need to yell at me like that when I was just trying to look out for him. Everyone screwed up from time to time. I was in the middle of raging to myself when one of the nurses came in. I didn't like this guy, he was an asshole that spent his time leering at us when I was with Sherry.

“Two fights in one day? At this rate you won't be receiving any more visitors for a while.”

“That's none of your damn business.”

But it was true. I already had few visitors to begin with but now I was done for, especially if Redfield was leaving for Alaska.

I think I'm just gonna wait two or three days to let things blow over, then I'll call Sherry and say sorry, she'll come back around. That's usually how things worked. I didn't really like it, but I also didn't really have a choice, because I loved her for real.

The nurse left, and then fifteen minutes later he came back with the doctor, two mad scientists and four BSAA soldiers.

“Hey, what's going on here?”

“Mr. Muller,” explained the doctor, his voice as saccharine as the smile he was giving me, “Given that you won't be having any visitors for the next few days, we've evaluated that the time has come for us to increase the rigor of the experiments aimed at supplanting the C-Virus.”

“What?”

“Now don't you worry, everything's going to be fine. We're just going to inject you with a few new products to test. You won't be in any danger. But as a safety measure for hospital personnel, these second stage experiments require the subject to be immobilized.”

That's when I saw that one of the mad scientists was holding a set of restraints. I wanted to knock them all out, but the BSAA soldiers were already on top of me. Before, I would have knocked them all to the ground in two seconds flat, but not anymore. I had spent too much time bedridden, and they had tested all sorts of products on me that drained my strength. I could do nothing but yell when they blind my legs, my wrists, and my shoulders and they injected me with their sinister-looking syringe.

They took my phone, my laptop, and even the modem for the wi-fi. And the TV remote, they put it in my hand before leaving. I chucked it at them as hard as I could, but I didn't have much mobility with the restraints. The doctor picked it up with a look of slight disappointment before saying:

“You shouldn’t have done that, Muller. Now you'll risk getting tired of this channel.”

He placed it on the end table by the door and they departed, leaving me there with the TV, the sound turned up too high. How the hell was I going to make it out of this mess this time? I didn't see it coming at all. Sherry… Piers… help. You can't leave me here like this.

* * *

**Piers:**

I wandered aimlessly along the road for who knows how long, following local highways and backroads until I lost all sense of direction. Since the time that I got out of C… the car, a few hours had passed without me realizing. I only noticed when night began to fall. I called Jake and I chewed him out. I don't even remember what I said to him, I was still reeling from the shock of what he did, from the bitter sense of betrayal… that's what I should have told him. That I didn't want his lying ass as a friend, with his backstabbing and his false promises.

Once the sun went down here in Nevada the temperature dropped significantly. And yet I didn't feel cold at all, or hungry, even though I probably should have been. Instead I felt nothing. For hours now, I had been trying to understand what had happened back there in the car. Over and over again, the scene replayed in my head, there was no room to think about anything else. But what the hell happened? Where did I screw up?

Did I kiss him? I couldn't even remember. Had I really been stupid enough to kiss him? At the time it seemed like it was him who had kissed me but if that was the case than how did you explain his reaction afterwards? By trying to wrack my brain so hard to remember, the memories just got more jumbled. It didn't seem real, it made no sense. What did I even do? Was it something I said? Was it something I should have said? Was it when I had groped his thigh? I mean yeah, but how could I have known? By the time you get to kissing, it's usually nice to… but how did we even kiss in the first place?

I had a headache. I wanted to cry again. How was I supposed to be able to ask for his forgiveness if he was heading back out to Alaska? But forgiveness for what, exactly? Now that he knew that I liked him, would he consider it sexual harassment that I… that I what? I don't even know what I did! Fuck, Jake, why couldn't you have kept your stupid mouth shut for once?

I ended up going to the seediest gay bar in town. Not like I had much of a choice anyways, there were only two in town, and no bouncer was about to let me into a hip nightclub. But that's exactly what I was looking for. A place with grimy walls, dingy atmosphere, and a bad crowd. I wanted to really feel something. I wanted something primal, something violent. I wanted someone to beat me over the head until I couldn't think straight. I wanted someone to rough me up and set upon me without respect, then beat me up and leave me for dead in the dumpster in the back alley, where stray dogs would feast on my corpse.

C'mon, any takers here? Nobody here in the fucking middle of nowhere wanted to take me out to take me in their basement/meth lab to torture me to death for their sick amusement? I was ready. I wasn’t looking for someone to restore my faith in humanity. Where was Umbrella, or Neo-Umbrella, or all the psychos that made the evening news when you needed them?

I scanned the room for the most dangerous-looking guy, the one with the most malicious glint in his eye. And I found a gigantic one, as big as Chris and his new lieutenant combined, all muscle, wearing a studded vest with a giant skull on it, and eight of his teeth replaced with metal. He was chatting it up with two of his huge friends, all of them were armed. I stepped forward and gave his ass a hard smack. The silence that followed was deafening.

I wanted to die in the worst way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.  
> Haha… sorry.  
> I hope you guys aren't too upset with Chris :D  
> The next chapter might be rather short, just a heads up! It's going to be a transition of sorts, an itty bitty one! Hopefully it'll give everyone a breather since some of my chapters are too long!  
>   
>  _Hey there, thanks for your patience after that last ending! I apologize for the delay, but hopefully that was a good rollercoaster ride for the story! (Or maybe more like the Tower of Doom in this case XD) I might post chapter 12 with 13 if it turns out to be pretty short, just FYI. But otherwise I want to thank you all again for staying with the story, for reading and leaving reviews, especially those who keep coming back each chapter! It's really a pleasure hearing your guys’ thoughts, and it means the world to me and the author that you’re enjoying it! So thanks again, until next time!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Translator's note:_  
>  _Hey there, readers! I am really sorry for the massive delay for this chapter, it’s been kind of a crazy time for me in my life right now, though luckily it’s mostly good! But I promise you I haven’t forgotten about this fic, I’ve still been working steadily on it, just a bit slower than I was able to before. And while this chapter is very short, I assure you that the next one is quite long, and should be up in a few days, I’m hoping. (I didn’t take all this time just for one tiny chapter, I swear!) So thank you all so, so much if you’re still reading it, and I hope that I can pick up some momentum after this and get the story back on track!_  
>   
>  Hello!  
> /!\ Warning: mini-chapter! /!\  
> Here's what happened: I wanted to do a kind of darker chapter that's really short just to show that some time has passed. But the chapter after was supposed to be regular length, so I wanted to post it right after so you all didn't feel like you were reading just a teeny bit of the story! But well… I didn't finish. Let's just say it's Chris’ fault, as usual, and we should all throw rocks at him together!  
> (Shout out to Sojiku! Check out their fic biohazard: Code Nivans if you can read French!)

**Post-injection 12.**

* * *

**Chris:**

Back to the battlefield. It was the same shady, nondescript buildings buried under tons of snow, the same endless waves of firefights against the same BOWs. Same old, same old.

But this time I felt something I had never known before when heading out on a mission. I felt fear, a fear that didn't come from our enemies but from within.

At every turn, I saw Piers tearing off his arm again. I watched as he dragged himself towards the syringe, leaving a trail of blood behind him through every corridor, every path. And each time I heard one of my men say, _The captain sure is great_ , I was afraid. I couldn't bring myself to rally the troops anymore, even though god knows that they needed it in all that mess. But I couldn't help it: I was too scared, scared that one of these boys would it get it in their head that they would die for me.

How was I supposed to be a good captain under these conditions? How could I possibly keep my soldiers protected if I wasn’t capable of trusting their survival instincts, the most basic of their training? These kids, they could tell that I didn't want to get too close, that I didn't want to build rapport with them, and it wasn't good for morale. It wasn't good for the team.

But in any case, after twenty years of experience in the military, I knew how it would end; they were all going to die. They'd all get killed, one by one, like they always did. They'd all give their lives for me, and I'd be the only one left, again. The only survivor.

And thus, without even realizing it, I had become just like Wesker.

* * *

**Jake:**

How many days had passed? How many weeks had gone by? They had moved me, they fuckin’ stuck me in a lab with a bunch of machines and equipment, and when nobody else was there, they didn't even bother to leave the lights on.

I didn't eat, I had an IV. I didn't get up, I pissed into a tube. I was fastened on every side and I couldn't understand why, it's not like I had any strength left anyways. They were injecting me with so many things, god, so fucking many, at least ten a day! Well really, I had no sense of how much time was passing. How much time did I spend asleep? Actually, was I even sleeping, or were they putting me under?

Whatever the case, I would rather have spent as less time awake as possible.

I had already been locked up in China for six months by Neo-Umbrella, that had been more than enough. Fuck off and let me live my life. Take back your fifty million if you want, it wasn't worth it. I just wanted to get out of here. A fat lot of good that dough was doing for me now, anyways.

It's crazy how much of my life I had spent in hospitals. When I was little, the rest of the kids got to go to Disneyland for the weekend while I went to visit the hospital on the corner. My mom being sick ‘n all. Every three months she had to get another surgery. That's why I became a mercenary at such a young age, why I was always chasing after money.

Having to pay 300 dollars to do a diagnostic test just to find out that mom risked dying if she didn't get a 20000-dollar surgery within six weeks. That was my whole childhood.

I didn't have that problem anymore today because she’s dead, my mother. She died over those six months that I had been held captive with Sherry. I obviously wasn't able to pay for her treatments, I wasn't there. And without anyone to pay for their expensive-ass medications, they just let her die. Hell, I don't even know where they buried her.

I didn't even get to use my fifty million dollars to do something good, shit. I had never been able to do anything good in my life.

And the worst thing about all this was that Sherry hated me. We left off on a fight, and I was supposed to call her again when I had calmed down. She must have thought that I didn't give a fuck, that I was nothing but a selfish asshole. Same with Nivans, I had left him in the dirt. From what I understood I had basically destroyed his life, and I couldn't even explain myself, or listen to him yell, if that would have helped.

If I were a good person, maybe they would have figured out that I was in trouble if I wasn't responding, and they would have come to look for me. But what’s weird about Jake not even bothering to apologize after calling his girlfriend a whore? Nothing. That's just me. I was trying to change, really, but you can't change on a dime, not that quickly. Sherry must have thought that I didn't care about her, Nivans thought that I manipulated things to make him suffer, and none of it was that unbelievable because everyone knew that I was the biggest jerk in the universe, and that these were totally things I would do.

I wanted to yell that it wasn't true, I didn't want any of this. Listen to me, I beg you, it's not what it looks like! Sherry… Piers… I care about you guys more than I've ever cared about anyone in my life. I love you both. For real. It kills me to think that you guys think I don't care about you at all. Honestly, it was terrible. If I die here… if I was locked away down here for the rest of my life… would that be your last impression of me?

* * *

**Piers:**

The wall that I was having my face shoved against was seriously disgusting, but I was fine with that. Better to have it scraping my cheeks and my lips, tasting like dirt and spit than to have it smooth and gentle and decorated with roses. This was more appropriate.

The guy nearly had my head crushed against the wall with one hand, and had my arm pinned painfully against my back with the other. Yeah, like I was really going anywhere.

Honestly, Chris, I feel really sorry for you. You treat me like this after everything I did for you, after everything that I'd be ready to do for you even still. I mean, I love you from the bottom of my heart, the depths of my soul, I give you my everything in every way possible, and you, the best you can do is to smash my head against this filthy wall while breaking the only arm I have left and while you… the details don't matter, but I was completely wrong about you. You're nothing but a selfish bastard. How could I have fallen in love with someone like you? I can feel your flabby beer gut against my back and it’s gross. I really hate you so much. I seriously can't believe I thought I loved you.

Wait, no. No no no, don't turn me around. Don't turn me around! I haven't protested once through all this, so please, Chris, god please don't turn me around.

Fuck.

I knew perfectly well that it wasn't him, it just felt better to imagine that the guy who had broken my heart was a vile scumbag. But when I came face to face with this foul-breathed drunkard with his boorish grin full of silver teeth, I balked. Chris had nothing to do with this guy. Chris was extraordinary, thoughtful, and good, and he would never have treated me like that. I could close my eyes and play pretend until the cows came home, but it wouldn't change a thing. I knew the truth, it was written in my DNA: I loved Chris Redfield. More than I can put in words, more than I can show in my actions. What happened down in the underwater facility, that wasn’t even 1% of the love I bore for him.

But now what was I supposed to do? _Move on_? How could I? It was like if they told me that they had found my human arm and all I had to do was reattach it. Absurd and morbid.

The big lout finally decided to let go of my arm. It hurt like hell. I would have liked to have my other arm to massage it a bit, get the blood flowing again.

The guy was sweating all over. He gave a crude sort of chuckle and then made an equally crude remark, pleased with himself. That's it? What's next? You can't leave me like this. C'mon, you fat ass, move. Go find a shovel or something to knock me out with. Stuff me in the trunk of your car and drive into the forest to kill me. Do something, god damn it!

I gave him a kick in the balls to wake him up. He didn't see it coming and probably didn't really get why, but as soon as he recovered, he still returned the favor with two or three heavy punches to my face. He stopped when my nose started bleeding. What are you afraid of, huh? We're in a garage in the middle of nowhere and you've got more than enough tools at your disposal. I can see a bike chain right there, not even five feet away, sitting on top of that bench. You've got a screwdriver, a blowtorch, a jigsaw, I can see everything from here! So c'mon, what the hell are you waiting for? Smash me to a bloody pulp, rip me apart, tear me limb from limb, I won't even try to move. You think I'm scared? I’ve already done half the work myself.

He took a step back, recoiling a bit.

“You're batshit insane,” he murmured, sounding almost scornful.

Was he making fun of me? I was handicapped and ill, he was three times my weight, he had just got done fucking me and dislocating my shoulder, and he had the gall to be scared?

Fuckin’ bastard! This guy tattoos satanic symbols on the whole front of his body and yet can't be damned to kill an innocent person.

I let loose a dozen insults at him to try and provoke him but there was no helping it. He picked me up around my waist, rather gently I must say, and set me down outside. He even called me a taxi. Coward. Fine, let me live, see if I fucking care. If you think I need someone else to screw me over, then you are sorely, no, gravely mistaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued!  
> So, in your opinion, who’s got the shittiest life right now? XD (Personally, I vote Jake)  
> I promise that this chapter is the most trash of this fic (that's why it's short! I don't like too much of that!), things will start calming down next chapter.  
> Again, the biggest thanks for reading and for your reviews!  
>   
>  _Translator's note:_  
>  _And thank you to all you guests who either read the story or left kudos on AO3 as well! It means a lot to both me and the author to see people reading and enjoying the story!_


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translator's note:  
> Phew, finally! Thank you so much for all your patience, and I hope you can see part of why it took so long for this chapter! Enjoy! 
> 
> Hey there dear readers!
> 
> Hope you like to yo-yo, because this chapter is super long again, hope that's okay. I was hesitant to cut it in two, and in the end I decided against it because I thought the first part would be too boring for a chapter by itself.
> 
> A big thanks again for all the reviews! Happy reading!

**Post-injection 13.**

* * *

 

_One month later:_

**Piers:**

I had been dismayed to find myself still standing. The taxi that the crazy satanic biker had called for me had taken me back to the city. I hadn't known where to go, I had no address to give him, so he left me in front of a motel on the outskirts of the city. I remember that I was in a horrible mental state. I was furious, no, I was devastated that I had survived again.

That had been a month ago. But then life went on, and basic instincts kept me alive, as is expected of human nature. I was falling apart on the inside, but I nevertheless walked to the reception of the motel.

It was barely even dawn and reception was closed, but there was a lockbox where you could get a room key by inserting a credit card. Thankfully, I had mine with me, that big oaf didn't even bother to shake me down and take my stuff. I took the key, found my room, went in and locked the door behind me. Then I threw myself on the bed and I cried and cried like never before. I didn't care, nobody would know. I could just as well die here in this room and it would probably need weeks before someone discovered the body.

I stayed in that state for several days. I thought about Chris all the time.

I resented Jake so much it hurt. With each passing day, I hated him a bit more. And yet, when I stepped back a bit, I didn't really care that he betrayed me. First of all, because it was partially my fault for trusting him so much. And also because part of me actually wanted Chris to know. Jake should have kept his mouth shut, but at that point, I didn't really care anymore. What I found reprehensible, however, was the extent to which he seemed not to care about it all.

All this time, Jake still hadn’t called me. Not even once. In only two days my phone had been flooded with calls from Claire and Sherry but I couldn't bring myself to pick up. I was scared, and ashamed, and god, so scared, I wasn’t in any condition to talk to anybody. But if Jake had called, I would have picked up, I'm sure of it. To yell at him, for starters, I felt like I needed to let off some steam by tearing him a new one, I'll admit, but then… That’s where I was the most resentful of Jake and his dumb friendship: I needed him. Despite all the anger I missed his support so much. I wanted to hear him go on about all the ways that Chris was gross and awful, how he was drugged up on cattle hormones, how his feet smelled worse than dumpster liquid, and how his facial hair looked more like somebody's unshaven ass (All of that is false, just so we're clear).

I needed Jake more than ever, and he had turned his back on me. And I wasn’t about to go begging for his friendship after what he did. When I went to do my check ups at the hospital, I didn't even bother going up to see him. I was seriously pissed at him! And as if it hadn't been enough for that jerk making me lose Chris, I was losing him, too.

As a result of being alone for too long, I was starting to get a little anxious and paranoid. The guy back at the bar… I don't know what possessed me to do that. I think that I had just totally lost it. And it was like a cycle. I'd have these terrible feelings like I wanted to die in the most fucked up ways possible, and once they passed I was scared of the thoughts that had gone through my mind. I felt like I was going crazy.

Maybe it wasn't the best choice, but I bought myself a gun. I was tired of feeling so weak, and what better than a nice, big AK-47 emblazoned with the American flag to bolster the ego? At the gun shop, they even let me try it out the weapons. One of the good things about this country was that nobody would refuse to sell a lethal weapon to a mutated amputee. You can't mess with our right to bear arms, it's in the Constitution. Of course, I had to rule out anything that was two-handed: sniper rifles, assault rifles, and all the weapons that I had been trained in. Well it's not like I had a large budget, anyways. I ended up with a small, standard handgun, it seemed more like a toy than a real weapon, it was so dinky. Not even my grandma would keep it in her bedside table. But the ammo wasn't very expensive, there was little recoil, and with only one hand, it was probably the best I could do for the time being.

Once purchased, I never let the gun out of my sight. It felt reassuring, in some ways, so I kept if within reach at all times. Even when I went to the reception to find something to eat, I brought it with me.

To be perfectly honest, I hesitated to shoot myself. On the one hand, I think that I could say without any qualms that there wasn’t much worth living for here on this earth, now. I should have died down there in the underwater facility, the rest had been nothing but a struggle to delay the inevitable which hadn’t really been worth it in the end.

On the other hand… I don't know. Let's just say it wasn't the way I was raised. I was largely ready to die in a fight or in an accident, but to put the gun to my mouth and pull the trigger, that wasn't the least bit appealing. I imagine that the weight of the two thousand years of Christianity probably had something to do with it, its influence not completely shaken even after cutting ties with my family.

And there was also Chris. Despite what had happened, I still loved him of course, that would have been all too simple. And if I killed myself now, I had enough pride to say that he'd probably have a hard time living with himself, but that wasn't something I wanted to do to him. Even though I had reached the peak of my suffering and disinterest in life, it had been harder for me to accept surviving the underwater facility with my ungodly appearance than to renounce my death now. And yet, I had done it. For him. So if I could still prevent him from suffering unnecessarily, might as well. I had already come this far.

Jake, on the other hand, was completely unexcused. It'd look real bad if I had commit suicide, and he'd had deserved it.

But between Jake and Chris, my decision was quickly made. And there was also Claire. Hard to forget, with her thirty missed calls on my cell.

A few days after I had shacked up at the motel, I got up early in the morning at an hour that I knew she'd be asleep and passed by her place to return the keys. I wasn’t sure exactly what day it was but Chris must have already left for Alaska. I could have rang to let Claire know that I was doing well, I didn't want to keep her worrying about me. I knew how protective she got when it came to her entourage. But god, I looked so dreadful! I saw my reflection in the door: the normal half of my face was all swollen, still covered with knuckle-shaped bruises from the guy at the bar who evidently hadn't touched the mutated side, and my eyes were extremely red and puffy. So I left the keys in the mailbox and I hightailed it out of there like a kid playing ding-dong ditch. I almost left her a note to assure her I was okay, but just the act of staying upright, coupled with the fact that someone might come out and see me and wake up the entire neighborhood with their screams, made me just want to get out. I returned to the motel, feeling like a coward.

If Claire hadn't been Chris’ sister, I think I would have called her. I liked Sherry a lot, but she was like me, a bit shy, and I couldn't see myself crying on her shoulder. With Claire I could have done it. She called me tirelessly, she left me messages, she didn't give up. At the beginning the messages were panicked and pleading: _Piers, where are you? Please, just tell me you're okay, Sherry and I have been worried to death._ Then little by little, they grew calmer, she would talk about things that were more banal: _Hey Piers, hope you're doing well. You know, today I was caught on camera for speeding by a speed trap, but since I was driving Sherry’s car she's gonna be the one who gets the ticket, haha. But that's just between you and me, okay, let's hope that it didn't get enough of my face for her to figure out! Love you, take care!_

I never found the courage to call her back, but I replayed the message over and over, and it did me a world of good, it was incredible. Just a few words in my voicemail inbox, and it helped restore my forces a little bit more each time.

In the end, it took Claire less than two weeks to find me. She knocked on my door one fine morning:

“Piers, I know you're in there! So c'mon, be a dear and let me in! It's pouring out here!”

I was in the middle of a depressive episode, sitting on my bed, surrounded by snotty tissues as I slashed at my right thigh with a pair of scissors, crying uncontrollably all the while. Fortunately, the curtains were drawn, or else she would have saw.

I couldn't let her in, she reminded me too much of Chris and I wasn't ready to face that. Her visit paralyzed me. But she didn't insist, she left before long, leaving me a tupperware container with a third of a cake outside my door. I didn't end up eating it because I had already lost my appetite for a few weeks at that point, but I found it adorable on her part. Ever since that day, she came by regularly. She would talk to me from behind the door, she would leave me food, and she'd leave, she didn't push. The girl at the reception desk, who had become my only contact with the world out of circumstance, told me that Claire regularly asked her for updates on how I was doing.

During that month when my mind was in total disarray, when I was perpetually in a bad place after going through both Chris and Jake’s rejection (yes, I considered Jake's indifference a form of rejection), Claire was the light in my life. I knew she was doing it to reassure herself as well as me, but her idle chatter through the door or left on my voicemail, those meals that she left that I couldn't eat, and the fact that despite my silence she had never given up on me but never forced my hand either, all of that was the reason that I finally felt like I was able to pull my new gun away from my head for good. 

* * *

 

**Claire:**

I had always thought that Piers would be the positive influence that would make my brother take fewer risks and hang around more often. I was apparently mistaken.

I was overjoyed to see Chris when he came back on leave. He had gotten home late and we spent a relaxing evening together. Piers was still at the hospital. Chris talked about handing over the mission to someone else, and I was quite happy to hear it. I knew he was doing it for Piers.

But the next day, after having finished his report and going to a strategic meeting, he was supposed to pick up Piers and bring him back home. And yet, he returned alone. He had one hell of a look on his face.

“I accepted the mission,” he told me. “I leave tomorrow as planned.”

“What? But why? You said you wanted to stay! Where's Piers?”

Chris went to the fridge. I thought he was going to grab a beer, but no, he pulled out the bottle of scotch. He sunk down on the sofa and waved me over to join him.

“Piers is in love with me,” he announced.

I panicked a little. Should I act surprised or should I tell Chris that I've known for awhile?

“How do you know?” I asked, keeping my voice neutral.

Chris took a deep draft of his scotch before letting it out:

“Jake told me.”

“Okay…”

I pried the bottle from his hands.

“... that's not so bad. No need to put yourself in such a state.”

“I kicked him out of the car mid-drive.”

My god.

“Are you crazy? The poor guy!”

“I know…”

He buried his face in his hands.

“I completely blew it. But I just can't… Claire, if he tore off his arm and injected himself with the C-virus because of love, I can't tolerate that. He should never have done that.”

There was genuine distress in his eyes. I could sympathize. It had taken me so long to accept the death of Steve. Even today, when I saw his boyish seventeen-year-old face in my nightmares, I sometimes had the urge to unkindly yell at him, _How could you possibly have thought that was a good idea, you jerk?_

It took me years and years just to be able to say a simple, _thank you Steve, I'm grateful to you for saving my life_. And honestly, sometimes my heart just wasn't in it. The guilt, the turmoil that it caused was so deep. So I could definitely understand that Chris was so shaken to find out that Piers was in love with him. It was horrible. Truthfully, it was cruel.

At this point, the best way to avoid unnecessary suffering for both Chris and Piers was to keep lying, as Piers had well realized.

“I'm sure that's not the case. Jake must have been just saying things.”

Chris shook his head.

“I kissed him,” he confessed, sounding more miserable than ever.

I almost fell off the couch.

“What, when?”

“Right before I kicked him out of the car.”

I needed some scotch myself after that, to recompose myself. Poor Piers must have been so confused.

“And where is he now?”

“No clue.”

We needed to find him, and fast, before he did something stupid. While Chris hit the bottle again, I went to the phone to call Jake. I hoped that Piers had gone back to the hospital. Unfortunately, his cell phone must have been turned off, and when I called his room at the hospital it rang over ten times, no answer. Then I called the main number for the hospital, and they confirmed that Piers had left around three that afternoon and that he hadn't been back since.

Piers was overall a sound and stable guy, but we had all seen a glimpse of what he was capable of. Leaving him alone to wander the streets after Chris rejected him was a bad idea.

Chris and I had both already had too much to drink to drive safely. I called Sherry and I told her to come pick us up so that we could comb the city and look for Piers. We finished the scotch and put on our shoes, and then we waited outside.

“Why did you kiss him?” I finally had the time to ask.

“I don't really know. He kept on lying to me, and I wanted to know the truth.”

I wanted to ask him: _why did it matter so much that you needed to be sure if he loved you? If you don't love him back, wouldn't it have been better to keep pretending as much?_ But that sounded like a rebuke, so, doing my best to sound innocent, I asked,

“And? How was it, the kiss?”

My brother blushed like a schoolboy.

“I'm not ashamed for doing it,” he replied defensively. “There's nothing wrong with kissing another a man. This is a free country.”

Okay. Chris was a bit more drunk and a bit more bi than I thought. I laughed.

“Alright but you never answered the question. How was it? Good? Not good? On a scale from one to ten…”

He thought about it, and he was about to respond but changed the subject at the last second.

“You didn't seem surprised about the fact that Piers is in love with me.”

“No,” I answered honestly. “I already knew.”

“What?” he cried. “Then why didn't you say anything?”

“He didn't want you to know.”

My brother looked down.

“I don't understand,” he murmured. “He ripped his arm off, he injected himself with the virus, he hid his feelings… Did that make him happy?”

I could hear in his voice that the anger was starting to filter through. How could it not, with all the guilt he felt in all this? And that on top of all the nightmares he already suffered.

Once Sherry got here, we all got in the car and searched the city all night. We looked all along the route to the hospital and we followed all the bus lines, but no luck. No sign of Piers. In the morning, Chris left for Alaska without having slept, deathly anxious.

“Tell me you'll find him,” he pleaded as we were sending him off, his voice thick with worry. “Tell me you'll take care of him for me. I'll call him one of these days, I just need a little time.”

I made the promise. Sherry and I went back to sleep for a bit, and then we spent the rest of the day as well as the next few looking for him.

And during that time another problem quickly became apparent: Jake. He was giving Sherry the silent treatment after they had had an argument, he wasn't responding to her messages. I decided to go to the hospital to talk to him directly, but when I checked in at reception, they told me that Jake didn't want to see anyone, and _especially not us_ , he even specified.

Sherry couldn't understand it. According to her, their fight had been like any other. Certainly nothing worth starting the Cold War over.

A few days later, I found the key we had given Piers left in the mailbox. That was both reassuring and worrying at the same time. On the one hand, it meant that he was doing well enough that he could travel, and that he probably had somewhere else to stay in town. On the other hand… well, maybe he just needed some time, but it felt a bit like receiving a letter of resignation, only this was Piers, a good friend, and not an employee. I stopped by the stores nearby, convenience stores, pharmacies, grocery stores, and then checked every motel in the area. Luckily, it wasn't hard to give his description: ‘Excuse me, I'm looking for a young man, 26, average height, light brown hair, with only one arm, a half-rotten face, and a broken heart. If you've seen him, you'd know, I promise.’

The fact that there was no news of either Piers or Jake made me half wonder if they hadn't run off together. But I didn't dare joke about it in front of Sherry because this whole situation was starting to get her down.

The first few days, she refused to call her boyfriend. She told me that it wasn't on her to do it, that he owed her an apology and that she wouldn't cave this time, which I applauded because Jake had acted horrendously towards her, and he had better apologize.

But of course, she ended up giving in and logged into Skype in secret. When she saw that Jake was offline, that seemed odd to her because he had always been automatically connected whenever he had his laptop on at the hospital, which is to say 24/7. So she put aside her pride to call him. It rang once, twice, three times… it was then she had to face the facts.

“He’s blocked me!” she told me, huffing with indignance. “He… ghosted me. I don't believe it. What a scumbag!”

I told her that you never know, maybe there was a perfectly good explanation for all this, but I had a hard time coming up with any. Muller’s silence was as hurtful as it was telling.

Sherry then tried to adopt an attitude of “well I don't need that asshole anyways” to hide the fact that the news made her severely depressed. It didn't do her any good, and even she didn't really believe herself. I convinced her to leave her old witch of a landlady instead and come stay with me. With Chris going to be gone for quite some time, she could take his room. And when Piers came back, he'd always have his place on our futon.

It was really nice to have Sherry here to watch over, because I confess that I really missed Piers. We had had a lot of good times together when it was just the two of us living here. I taught him how to cook a few simple things, we left each other notes in the fogged-up mirror after our morning showers, we made online dating profiles just for fun- I'll spare you the rest of our shenanigans but we really enjoyed ourselves. In the evenings, we'd often grab a quilt and some popcorn and we went to the drive-in theater in the desert. We would throw ourselves in the back seat, shoulder to shoulder, and get comfy as the movie started. Half the time, Piers fell asleep in the middle of the movie, and I'd have to retell the end of the movie on the way home. I didn't mind though, Piers deserved a break. Even if I did tease him about it every other time. Part of me was actually quite hurt that he hadn't come back to me after Chris’ rejection. Were we not good enough friends?

Chris called regularly to ask for news about him. I reassured him as best as I could:

“No, he hasn't come back to the house, but the hospital confirmed that he showed up for his check-up last Friday, so we can be sure of at least three things: that he's alive, that he's staying in the area, and that he’s caring for his health at a minimum. That's honestly the best we can hope for right now, Chris.”

And then one day out of the blue, I finally found him. He was at a motel on the side of the interstate, almost 20 miles outside of town. All I had to do was ask at reception, and the girl gave me his room number. Piers didn't want to let me in; I tried not to take it personally. I was just happy knowing where he was.

That's how things had been for a few weeks now, for better or worse. I juggled my time spent between Piers who moped and was shut in at the motel, Sherry who moped on the couch, Chris who harassed me through the phone, and Jake who was still AWOL. And then one day, I had a genius idea.

I had just caught Sherry still wearing pajamas at 4 in the afternoon, bawling in front of a rom-com, all while crunching on uncooked ramen because “I was too laaaaaazy!” and I thought to myself how much Piers would have yelled at her and told her he wouldn't stand for her pity party if he were here.

And what better wake up call for someone so miserable than someone even more miserable and pathetic? It was worth a shot, in my opinion, and in any case it certainly couldn't get any worse. Even if they got together and were depressed together, at least then I wouldn't have to keep going back and forth.

I asked Sherry when was the last time she had washed her hair, and her answer was that she had no idea and that she didn't care. Perfect. I put on an overcoat over her pajamas, slapped on some makeup to make her eyes look even redder and puffier than they already were, and I got ready to drop her off at the motel where Nivans was staying. I hoped that one of the two would think ‘oh my god I don't want to look like that’ and finally snap out of it.

“Hey wait, this is cheating, you can't do this, Claire!” she protested, as I all but dragged her towards the car. “And it's not even true, I'm not depressed, I'm over Jake already, that's in the past!”

“Mm hmm.”

“Let me get dressed at least!”

“Nope! I need it to look authentic. And besides, that'll teach you to still be in pajamas this late in the day.”

“This is manipulation!”

“It's for a good cause, okay? Now c'mon, chop chop. And make sure you get a good cry in there, yeah?”

“Claire! No way!”

She made a fuss about it, but I knew she'd do it. Because despite her being as apathetic as she was right now, even she couldn't deny that it was a foolproof plan.

* * *

 

**Piers:**

Today I had spent the afternoon in the reception area of the motel. I had originally only stopped by to get a few things, but the girl at the front desk, who was studying for a test in one of her high school classes, had asked me for help on a math problem. She was a nice girl and she didn't to care about my mutation in the least, so I thought I'd take a look over it with her, and then we ended up pouring over it together for the next several hours, totally stumped and feeling like two idiots for the rest of the day.

When I went back to my room after finally buying what I needed, it was almost evening. And there in front of my door sat a girl talking to herself. I froze in my tracks, I almost turned back around and ran. I thought it was a bum at first, but to my great surprise, it was actually Sherry. Normally I would have fled just the same, but something wasn't right. Why was she wearing her pajamas? And why was she talking to herself?

“Sherry?”

“Piers!”

She jumped up.

“You're here!” she exclaimed. “I thought you were in your room, I've been here talking to the door for almost fifteen minutes now.”

“Is everything okay?”

She looked terrible. She was totally pale, her eyes were all red.

“It's… um… it's Jake.”

God, did something happen to Jake?

“... We're not together anymore.”

Ah. I saw that one coming, considering how he talked to her.

“Can I… come in?” Sherry asked, sniffling in between words.

And I almost let her, as well, but then I remembered what was behind the door. My bed wasn't made, it had been weeks since I had opened the windows to air out the room, and the trash can in the bathroom was full of globs of my mutated skin. I couldn't traumatize her like that. But I couldn't really ask her to leave either, not when she was looking like a sad bunny rabbit.

“Come on, we can go to the reception area. They've got more comfortable seating over there.”

And besides, I didn't have anything in my room to offer her other than granola bars and some powdered soup.

We went to sit at the reception. She told me how things had ended with Jake. I wasn’t surprised when she had told me they had separated, but I had a hard time believing it when she said that it was he who broke things off and not the reverse.

“Impossible,” I said instinctively. “He's crazy about you.”

“But he's been blocking my calls for weeks. I'm not stupid, I know what that means.”

I shook my head. Jake? Leaving Sherry? I didn't believe it for a second.

“Anyways,” Sherry spoke up, changing the subject, “how have you been?”

“Fine.”

“I'm glad to see you. Claire's been beyond worried sick over you!”

I didn't know what to say. I definitely owed her an apology.

“I think you're the one she should be worrying about,” I deflected. “You look horrendous.”

“You're one to talk!” she countered, equal parts indignant and laughing before furrowing her brow. “What happened to you, did you get in a fight?”

I still had the black eye from the night where I had lost it and went to the bar. It had taken so much time to heal because of all the medications I was taking to block the C-Virus. They seemed to suppress my immune system as well.

“No, it's nothing. How's Claire?”

“She's in great shape, it's exhausting,” Sherry laughed. “I've been staying at her place, we'd love for you to come back too. It would be nice, having all three of us together.”

She was right, it could be pretty nice. Even just talking to Sherry right now felt good. We talked about nothing and everything, carefully steering around the subject of Chris. We ended up eating some of the powdered soup that we got from the reception, putting it in a coffee cup and using the hot water from the coffee machine to mix it into what was supposed to be cheese and potato soup, but was more of a lukewarm slurry that made some of our MREs seem gourmet in comparison.

“This is vile,” Sherry exclaimed, laughing. “How can you eat this stuff?”

“Weren’t you just telling me how Claire yelled at you after catching you eating uncooked noodles?”

“Yeah,” she giggled, taking another sip of the already cold mixture.

It really hurt to see Sherry like that, with her unwashed hair and her puffy, red eyes. I wanted to tell her, what's wrong with you Sherry, get a hold of yourself! But I was in no place to judge, considering my life. What could have happened with Jake that he was refusing to talk to her? Even when he was sulking and giving her the cold shoulder he used to always answer his phone on the first ring.

I accompanied Sherry back to the parking lot.

“You sure you don't want to come back with me?”

“Yeah, I'm sorry… How come you came in your pajamas, by the way?” I finally dared to ask her.

Sherry went red at that.

“I know… it’s a disgrace, right? Claire dragged me out like this, she said that the more pitiful I looked, the more likely you'd actually agree to talk to me. She's also the one who put on this makeup that makes me look like a zombie.”

We shared a kind of embarrassed laugh.

“And the unwashed hair?”

“That was all me, thanks for pointing it out,” she huffed. “But hey, not like you're looking much better, yourself!”

Before leaving, Sherry asked if she could come back to visit, or if we could maybe go see a movie together one of these days. I said ‘sure.’ After all, life went on. I was hardly the only person in the world who had ever been turned down by the one they loved.

I returned to my room and took a shower. Then I tidied up the place, parted the curtains, and opened the window up wide. Tomorrow I needed to go the hospital for a checkup, so I'd use the opportunity to go see Jake. I was going to go tell him off for Sherry's sake as well as my own, and at the same time make sure that he was okay. It wasn't normal for him to leave Sherry like that, and I can't deny the sense of dread I had felt when Sherry had cried, “It's Jake!”, with her despairing, smudged face and her puffy, bleary eyes.

This floor of the hospital was just as deserted as always. Jake’s room was empty, he was probably in for an exam. I had a hard time shaking the doctor who was in charge of seeing me. For a while now, he would escort me all the way back to the entrance after my check-ups. I had to excuse myself under the pretense of needing to use the bathroom before I left for him to let me out of his sight. I don't know why I didn't just say I wanted to go see Jake. It felt really strange to be back here. The room was absolutely silent. Man, it was so rare for the TV to be turned off! I sat down on my old bed. Now that I was already here, might as well wait. I didn't really know what I wanted to say to Jake when he got back. I was tired, I didn't have any desire to yell at him today. I guess it would have to depend on his reaction.

Without really thinking, I shifted my pillow. Chris’ vest was still neatly folded underneath. I picked it up and wrapped my arm around it with a tinge of sadness. It didn't smell like him anymore. That night when I had re-mutated, it had gotten covered in blood and J’avo gunk and I had no choice but to toss it in the washing machine. I remember it had definitely hurt at the time. It seemed so long ago now.

I had left a sling bag that they had lent me at some point, now sitting at the foot of my bed. I scooped it up off the floor and put the vest inside. I was going to have to be an adult and return it to Chris, sooner or later. Or I could always burn it.

It was really quite strange, the calm in the room. I don't think I'd ever seen the room this tidy. Even when he had to go out for his tests, Jake usually left the TV on. And since when did he make his bed? Where was his laptop? I began to get a bit nervous as I realized that the space has been partially emptied. And then I saw it, resting on Jake's suspiciously impeccable bed.

There, on the side, about the position of where his wrist would lie. Why was there a restraint attached at that spot?

I took a closer look and discovered that it was covered in scratches from rubbing against the bedrail. My blood ran cold. I was beginning to see the whole picture. The reason Jake wasn't responding to his phone was not because of his own volition.

I left the room with my bag, sneaking down the hall towards the service stairwell. Given that the building had elevators, they probably never saw any use. I went down to the 5th sub-basement floor, where the research department held all their labs. If Jake was still being held somewhere in the hospital, there was a good chance it would be here.

There was quite a bit of personnel working down here. In the past, I would have ordered them all on the ground with the authority of my rank and my anti-materiel rifle as the squad swept the area. Seeing as how that was no longer possible, however, I had to settle for a less elegant solution. I crept behind a cart stocked with various boxes and lab equipment, and I pulled the fire alarm.

If I remembered correctly from the times that we had had fire drills at the hospital, that gave me about twenty minutes. So the minute everyone was out and the coast was clear, I searched the floor as quickly as I could. Bioresearch labs always gave me a bad feeling; they were where all the biohazard incidents started. Jake, where the hell were you? What kind of shit had you landed yourself in this time?

And then, as I pushed open another nondescript door, I saw him. A shiver went down my spine. He was suspended upright, naked and unconscious, in a large tube filled with a greenish liquid, something that would have looked right at home in a Neo-Umbrella facility. It was all in all a chilling sight, tubes going into his mouth and everything.

I went up to the pod and put my hand on the glass.

“Jake…”

Well here was why he didn't call. I felt pretty terrible for having left him all alone here.

Knocking on the glass, it felt pretty solid. Trying to punch it open would be useless. I looked around the rest of the room: the tube was hooked up to some computers on the side of the small space. They were all locked down. I was sure that it would be possible to open the pod using a command on the computers, but how? I didn't have time to comb all these rooms and labs for a piece of paper with the password on it, if it even existed. And what if I set off an alarm by entering an incorrect password? I know from experience that that's what would happen in one of these damn labs. And finally, once I actually did get Jake out and managed to drag him outside, how were we supposed to get away from the hospital without being noticed by all the hospital staff and research personnel that were surely waiting outside every emergency exit? What was I going to do, have Jake ride piggyback as I sprinted for our lives to the bus stop and hoped that they wouldn't come after us within fifteen minutes?

Out of desperation, I called Sherry. Maybe she'd have an idea, she's been in labs and probably knew them well. And even if she couldn't help, she at least needed to know that her lover hadn't left her.

“Wow, a ghost!” came the answer on the other line, lightly mocking.

I almost dropped my phone, I was so overcome with emotion. It wasn't Sherry, it was Claire. Simply hearing her voice, even though I had been hearing it fairly often through my voicemail, completely left me at a loss for words. I hadn't realized how much I had missed her, she had always given me so much support… But there was no time at present. I needed a plan, and I was sure that Claire would have one.

“Claire…” I began, unsure how to explain the situation, and still a bit dazed from having her on the other line.

“Sorry, Sherry let me borrow her cell phone today. I didn't expect you would call her, but I couldn't resist picking up when I saw it was you.”

Starting to regain my senses a bit, I realized that I needed to get to the point, I was running out of time. I talked as quickly as I could.

“Claire, I'm with Jake in the hospital. He… they’ve been doing tests on him, they have him kept in some sort of glass tube hooked up to all these computers. He's unconscious, we need to get him out of there. I set off the fire alarm to gain some time but they’ll all be waiting outside the exits, and they’ll be coming back soon.”

Claire reacted in no time at all.

“Leave the hospital. Act like you didn't see anything, and don't touch anything so they don't think something’s up. We're gonna come up with a plan and come back and get him out.”

“Understood.”

I would have preferred to get him out of there immediately, but let's be real: with only one arm and my dinky pea shooter, I wouldn't have been able to drag Jake very far.

Before leaving the room, I shot one last look over at the tube, and I was suddenly startled. Jake was watching me. His eyes were half-lidded, but they were clearly trained on me. God, he was awake. There was no way I could just go now, I couldn't leave him there for a minute longer. Not when he was awake.

“Hold on, I'm getting you out of here!”

I gave the tube a hard kick, with no success. Jake didn't seem to show any emotion but still followed my movements with his eyes. I took out my gun. Well, so much for not making noise. I only had six pitiful bullets, too, but oh well. That wasn't the biggest thing we'd have to worry about. I aimed the gun at an angle so that it wouldn't hit Jake if the bullet went through, and then I fired. The force of impact was minuscule, I certainly wouldn't be taking out any zombies with this thing. But it did its job, if just barely; there was liquid starting to drip through the hole. I shot two more times in different places to weaken the glass, and then I kicked as hard as I could at one of the areas that seemed ready to crack.

I'd like to take this moment to thank Plexiglass for their false advertising and their unreliable product. Two more kicks was all it took for a giant fissure to spread across the tube, and with one more the glass fractured and lost its transparency. The pressure from the liquid did the rest, and I barely even had time to jump back before the whole thing shattered in a rain of glass shards and green fluid.

Jake fell to his knees. I ran forward to help him.

I removed all the tubes and electrodes that he was still connected to, and I let him catch his breath. I didn't dare to touch him too much, I wasn't sure if he was okay.

Suddenly, he grasped my shoulder. I thought that he was trying to use my weight to help himself get up, but instead he pulled me forward and squeezed me with all his might.

“You came,” he murmured, his voice muffled as he spoke into my amputated shoulder.

He was freezing and covered with the slippery green ooze. Trying not to lose my balance, I put my arm around him and returned the hug as tightly as I could.

“I thought you hated me because of Redfield,” he said, still crushing my ribcage.

For the first time since everything happened, it was nothing, I decided. Jake being trapped in a pod like that for however long, that was much more horrible.

“Who said I didn't?” I replied, trying to keep it light. “I only came to find you so I could give you a piece of my mind!”

He gave a sort of laugh, then hugged me even harder. He was going to end up actually breaking a rib like this.

“Don't yell at me, okay?” he pleaded hoarsely. “I'm sorry.”

Hearing that made me want to cry. I thought back to Chris momentarily, and it already started hurting again.

“It's okay, we’ll just call it even. I shouldn't have left you here.”

“Things really didn't work between you guys?” he asked, in a small voice that seemed so unlike him.

“No,” I sighed. “C'mon, Jake, get up. Let's get out of here.”

He let me go but couldn't manage to stand up. In any case, he wouldn't have been able to get very far, bare feet walking all around shards of broken glass and slick tile. I went to find one of the desk chairs that were sitting in front of the computers, and I wheeled it over to him. While I held the chair in place to keep it from rolling around on the tile floor, Jake was able to plop himself down in it. I passed him a hospital gown that was hanging from a nearby cabinet, and while I let him dressed I called Claire. So much for planning. She'd have to come get us, now.

I didn't think she’d be able to get here for another 45 minutes at least, given the distance between her apartment and the hospital, but she told me not to worry, she was already here and ready to take off. But how? Had she been just on the corner since the beginning?

I went back to check on Jake, who needed a bit of help to finish getting dressed.

“What happened to you, Nivans?” he asked as he studied my face, his voice already starting to regain some of that characteristic cockiness. “You've got all sorts of bruises. What, were you trying to get the other side of your face to match?”

Oh joy, he was back to his old self.

“Don't start.”

I pushed Jake in the chair outside to the hallway. If it were possible to get him out that way it would have been perfect, I didn't think I'd be able to bring Jake all the way to the exit with just one arm. But unfortunately, the fire alarm has disabled the wheelchair elevator, we were going to have to take the service stairs. I wheeled Jake through the door to the stairwell and stopped short at the bottom of the stairs, and I let out a long sigh.

“You really can't walk?” I tried.

He attempted to get up, but he nearly cracked his skull on the concrete steps as he fell forward. I only just caught him in time. He was still chilled and rather slick from the liquid.

“Don't be such a wuss,” he griped. “You pulled Redfield from a burning building no problem back in Edonia, didn't you? And he’s got a hundred pounds on me.”

“I had both my arms back then, it was a lot easier. And besides, Chris doesn't weigh a hundred pounds more than you. He just seems bigger because he's shorter than you is all.”

Wait, what's gotten into me? Was this really the best time to discuss Chris’ weight with Jake?

“C'mon, let's go.”

I grabbed him underneath one arm and I slowly hoisted him up the stairs, step by step. He held on to me the best he could, which meant holding on just about at the spot where the amputation was. It was as unpleasant for him as it was for me, but neither of us said a word about it.

We had five floors to ascend. Jake kept sliding off because of all the slime that he was still partially covered in, which I was now covered in as well. Halfway up at a landing, I had no choice but to stop. I set Jake down against the wall and I sank down next to him. My amputated arm was beginning to bleed, it wasn't pretty.

“Fuck, it's cold in here,” Jake said, breaking the silence.

It wasn't particularly cold, but then again Jake was still soaked and barely dressed, and he was coming out of a month of inactivity.

“Hold on.”

I still had Chris’ vest in my duffel that I had slung over my shoulder. I took it out and handed it to him.

“Here, put this on.”

Jake grinned widely in amusement. Oh boy, here it comes.

“Wait, I know what that is! That’s your precious blankie that you never returned!”

He took it cautiously, keeping the garment at arms’ length, and sniffed the air with a look of disgust.

“You didn't jack off into it, I hope?”

For Christ's sake. I couldn't believe it.

“... okay, you win. I'll just leave you here.”

“No, wait!” he exclaimed, grabbing on to my sweatshirt to keep me from getting up, “I was just kidding! Help me put it on.”

“So you can't stand on your own but apart from that you’re just peachy, huh?” I grumbled.

Only one month of not running that mouth of his had been too much for him, he needed to make up for lost time, it seemed. I helped him put his arms through Chris’ vest. Just a few weeks ago I would have called it sacrilege, but now I wasn’t bothered in the least. Well okay, that was a lie. It still pained me a little to do so despite it all.

Helping him in the vest, I couldn't seem to get the zipper closed. Jake was no help either, with his fingers all swollen and lacking any dexterity. We tried to work together to do it, but all we ended up doing was getting on each other's nerves as we fumbled awkwardly with the zipper. We were nearly on the verge of yelling at each other when we heard sounds coming from above. Shit, this wasn't the best time to be arguing. Footsteps, shoes slapping against concrete, and doors slamming closed in the echoey stairwell indicated people moving from one floor to another. It must have been some time since the firefighters would have called a false alarm, the doctors and scientists would be returning any minute now. And I was afraid, because with the elevator disabled, the service stairs were the most likely place to be found, and instead of stopping to be smart about it, we were having a catfight over something so stupid.

I'm not sure what happened next, whether it was the stress, or nerves, or just the sheer absurdity of the situation, but just as things were going to come to blows, we both broke out in uncontrollable laughter. There we were, sitting on the ground in the middle of the stairs, covered in blood and slime in an improbable getup, falling and bickering over zipping up a vest because one of us was an amputee and the other had just come out of near-stasis.

“Christ,” Jake said, nearly as hysterical as I was, “And to think that we saved the world!”

We were in tears from trying to hold back the laughter, it wouldn't do to alert the entire hospital by cackling in the echoey stairwell. When was the last time I had been overcome with laughter like that? I didn't think it was still possible for me. It took us a few minutes for us to calm down, the fire alarm still blaring all the while. Those firemen must have been taking their time.

“We're really fucked, huh?” Jake asked, the smile still wide on his face.

We didn't have much of a chance, but we'd have to give it our best anyways. I took out my handgun.

The first rule in the BSAA was never to fire on a civilian, unless they were named Ada Wong. But I was no longer part of the BSAA, and Jake was just defending his own life. I stuck the pistol in the inside of Chris’ vest.

“I've got three bullets left,” I told him, trying not to sound grave. This might be our last hope.

“Great. Now we're saved.”

I got up, and I pulled him up to help him to his feet. We resumed our struggle up the stairs, shambling slowly up each step.

“This reminds me of the underwater facility,” Jake commented. “Only it was me lugging you up those goddamn stairs back then.”

“We also didn’t have nearly as hard a time.”

“I don't think we're doing half bad.”

Of course. He wasn't the one having to support a 6’2” grown man using only one arm. Why did I always end up having to drag guys around who were twice my build?

I missed a step. We went tumbling down another five feet. Luckily we didn't hit our heads on the way down. The last thing I needed was to have to carry dead weight if Jake got knocked out.

“Okay,” Jake huffed, nursing a newly-formed bruise on his side, “I take back what I said. Shit, Redfield’s never there when you need ‘em.”

“We don't need him,” I responded coldly.

I hadn’t really meant it, but it actually felt good to say. I thought that Jake would encourage me to bad mouth Chris even more, but instead he looked strangely sad.

“It's really over for you two?” he asked again, using me as a support to pull himself up.

“Yeah.”

It was all that I could manage to murmur. We started up again, on our exhausting trek up. We were still only on the third sub-floor. Then Jake came out with a:

“Y'know, Two-Face? If I were gay, I'd go out with you.”

It was half endearing, half annoying. Did he think that I was desperate for anyone?

“And who said that I’d even want to go out with you?”

“I'd seduce you. I would go out of my way for you and everything, you wouldn't be able to resist for long. I'd make you forget Redfield. I'm already wearing his vest, that turns you on, right?”

“Stop deluding yourself Muller, you're not my type.”

“Why not?” he asked, sounding almost offended.

“You're arrogant and you're an ass. And besides, you can't even legally drink.”

He laughed.

“Your Redfield is almost a senior, like that's any better.”

I was about to reply that he wasn't _my_ Redfield and that he wasn't even that old, but suddenly we heard a commotion from further up the stairwell. Then came a man's voice:

“There are people down there!”

We both froze. The sound of shoes slapping against the concrete steps echoed throughout the whole stairwell. Jake and I were halfway between two landings, there was no way we'd be able to escape in time.

“Jake,” I whispered quickly. “If they catch you, they won't kill you. They still want you for their experiments. But now I know what's going on, and so does Claire. So we'll come back to get you, wherever you are. I promise.”

I wanted to say plenty more, but I was out of time. Five guys appeared in front of us, having hurried down the stairs from above. Jake and I gripped each other tight out of instinct.

“What the hell are you still standing around here for? Jesus Christ!” bellowed one of the men.

It was the firefighters. I gaped at the one who had just yelled at us like we were disobedient kids. How were the firefighters still here, after this long?

“Didn't you hear the fire alarm? Are you aware that THERE'S A FIRE?” the man hollered at us.

What do you mean, there was a fire?

“We're patients,” Jake tried, putting on his best crippled grandpa voice. “We did hear the alarm, we were trying to evacuate as fast as we possibly can.”

The firemen looked at each other, questioning.

“The doctors didn't think to get you out?”

It was my turn to act the pitiful invalid.

“They forgot about us. It happens all the time.”

We did our best to look like a kicked puppy. We didn't even have to try that hard, we were already made pretty convincing cases for losers that had been forgotten by even the nurses, what with Jake looking somewhat gaunt from his time here and me with my tatty sweatshirt and my one arm.

The blustering fireman pointed to one of his men:

“You there, get them to the ground floor and find them a wheelchair, they need to get out of here. And come back quickly, we're gonna need you to help get the oxygen tanks outta here.”

“Yes, sir!”

A great big hulk of a man lifted Jake up in a fireman’s carry as if he wear just a feather and took the stairs two at a time. All I had to do was follow behind him, thanking the heavens as I scurried to keep up.

“So then… there's really a fire?” I asked the firefighter.

“Yeah. There are three fires in fact, on the first floor.”

I tried to sound as casual as possible as I asked what had caused them.

“Vandalism. I swear to god, when we get our hands on the little punk who thinks he's so clever for setting fire to a hospital…”

I think it was rather a little punk who thought _she_ was so clever that they should be looking for. A big punk, even, and one had saved our lives.

“Here's a wheelchair,” came the fireman, as we finally reached the ground floor and exited the stairwell. “The exit’s straight ahead, don't stop. The paramedics are waiting outside they'll get you taken care of. I have to get back to the rest of the guys.”

“Thank you,” I said honestly.

We didn't bother trying to put the gun to his head and making him walk in front to assure our escape. He had been kind to us, and even with our pistol I don't think we would have stood a chance in our condition. I barely managed to keep upright even though I was half leaning on the chair as I pushed Jake, so I don't know how we could have possibly tried to use the man as a hostage.

We pushed slowly towards the exit. With only one arm already occupied guiding Jake, I was unable to call Claire and make sure that she would be outside. I was just going to have to trust her.

The automatic doors opened and Jake took out the gun. The sun was in my eyes but I could definitely see that there were _a lot_ of people outside. Researchers, doctors, nurses, cops, military personnel… we had three bullets.

“That's one of the test subjects!” yelled one of the scientists in the crowd. “He's the key to stopping bioterrorism, don't let him get away!”

Jake aimed the gun at his face. Everyone shouted and screamed. Three bullets.

Then with a deafening roar of an engine, a huge motorcycle shot up the stairs leading to the hospital and skidded to a halt mere inches in front of them, blocking them from us.

“Whoa, killer bike,” Jake had just enough time to comment before I pushed him on to it, hopped on behind him myself and Claire took off at full throttle.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… should I have cut it into two? :X
> 
> /!\ Spoiler announcement /!\: Prepare yourselves, fanboys and fangirls, because your favorite character is arriving soon! I'm talking about the hottie, the superstar, the guy with the hair, the one who is somehow still sexy despite sharing a name with your grandpa (well mine, anyways XD!), of course I'm talking about…
> 
> TO BE CONTINUED!
> 
> (OMG that teaser was so cheesy XD)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hey everyone!**   
>  **I'm a little appalled, in the last chapter everyone thought I was talking about Leon, but actually no… Okay, yeah. Introducing Leon, the guy with the great hair XD**

 

**Post injection 14.**

* * *

**Piers:**

Three people on a motorcycle, no helmets, who did Claire think she was, Vin Diesel? But now wasn’t the best time to point that out as we were currently zooming away at max speed, pursued by two armored trucks from the BSAA.

We sped through side streets, parks, pedestrian walkways, and down stairs, probably more but I confess that I quickly closed my eyes. I clung to Jake as best as I could, but it really wasn't easy to hang on with only one arm. Every time the motorcycle made even a slightly sharp turn I very nearly fell off. And it happened quite often. I was starting to cramp in my arm and my back from trying to keep a grip on Jake.

A car definitely would have been more suitable for this journey, but I'll admit, I'm not sure if we could have lost the BSAA as easily as Claire did with the motorcycle, zipping through areas where cars couldn't follow.

Jake must have felt me start to lose my grip, because he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me in closer against him. With the other hand he held on to Claire. I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, holding on for dear life on the back of the motorcycle, but at some point, the hairpin turns, the fishtails and other motocross stunts became less frequent. We had finally lost them. We then made it back to the highway and rode on for quite a while.

When Claire deemed us sufficiently far enough to take a break, she exited and we stopped for a bit at a rest area.

“You guys hungry?” she asked, hopping off the bike.

“Famished!” Jake replied.

Me not so much. I eased off the bike as well. My arm was horribly cramped and over-tensed from being squished in that position for so long.

“Stay put, I'm gonna go grab us some sandwiches. It'd be better for you guys to wait outside for now, you two are too noticeable. I'll be back in a jiff.”

She smiled at us, and then went inside the rest stop. I walked around the parking lot to stretch my legs a bit, and then I sat down on the curb. I was wiped out. I mean, lately I had gotten in the habit of sleeping twelve hours a day, so everything that happened today was bound to feel like extreme sports in comparison. There were a few picnic tables on the other side of the parking lot, but I didn't even have the strength to go over there. Especially if it meant having to carry Jake again.

Speaking of Jake, he was still on the bike, looking like a kid in a candy store. Apparently, he and Claire had a rather fervent passion in common for these tricked out rides, I told myself, yawning. I could have really used something to lean on right now, so I could just close my eyes and take a nap. But it wasn't comfortable in the slightest to lay down on the sidewalk, and besides being exhausted, I suddenly realized that I was also extremely sad. We had rescued Jake safe and sound, and that was against all odds, even. But once the stress and the adrenaline had subsided, I was once again acutely aware of my situation, which had remained unchanged: I had lost my arm, and I had lost Chris. And the life I had been living at the motel, staying cooped up like a hermit without any real human contact - even if it had been unhealthy and painful, at least it had been easy. I hadn't needed to worry about not looking miserable, about not looking like I'd lost the will to live. I loved Claire and Jake, but right now I just wasn’t in any state to see anyone or be around people, especially the ones that I cared about.

Jake asked what day it was. I had lost my sense of time a bit as well, but I knew that we were somewhere in December.

“I still can’t believe I’m no longer locked up in that shithole,” he said, looking at the sky, the highway, the landscape. “It's been a year since I was first locked up.”

“That long, really?”

“Well yeah. Six months in China, an escape that didn't even last a whole day, the underwater facility and then the BSAA hospital since this summer.”

I shivered. Had it really been six months already since the underwater facility? It went by so fast! Bitterly, I thought that it wouldn't bother me one bit to go back a whole year and change everything.

Jake clambered awkwardly down from the bike and in two sides closed the five feet between us, to come sit next to me.

“Who’s the guy who did this to you?” he asked softly, brushing my bruised left eye with his thumb.

“It's not a big deal, Jake,” I responded, bored.

He observed be in silence for a moment.

“If Redfield hit you,” he came, his voice rumbling menacingly, “if Redfield hit you Nivans, I swear to god I'll find ‘em and I'll kill ‘em.”

I was equally surprised by his a little too overprotective tone as I was by the meaning of his words.

“What? Why would Chris hit me?”

Oh, I could think of a few good reasons. Just thinking about it made my heart stop.

“I know you Nivans, you're just trying to protect him like an idiot.”

“That’s really not it. Chris never did anything to me. I was just stupid, that's all. It’s nobody's fault.”

“Tell me what happened then!”

I thought for a second.

“No,” I decided. “It doesn't concern you.”

“C’moooooon!” he tried, whining like a kid.

“C’mooooooooooon Piers, tell us eeeeeeverything,” echoed another whining voice.

It was Claire, who came up behind us with a bag of food. She gave me a big smile.

“Just kidding. Only tell us what you want. We’ll listen, but we won't force the issue. Isn't that right, Jake?”

She said her last words while giving the death glare to Jake. I got up.

“Claire…”

It made me so emotional, damn, to have her in front of me like that… she had saved my life. And I wasn’t talking about our escape from the hospital, I meant before all that. I was talking about the voicemails she had left me on my phone, how she had watched over me without intruding. She had been so dependable, she had been a rock for me. Even more solid than Chris. With that smile on her face, she looked like she could take on anything.

“...I missed you. Thanks for everything.”

There was so much more that I would have liked to tell Claire. But I couldn't manage more at that moment. She clasped her hand lightly on my shoulder.

“Not at all. You scared me, you ass.”

She couldn't either; I didn't think she was talking about the hospital. I wanted to give her a big hug and hold her tight, but I didn't dare.

“That's great and all,” came Jake, who was still sitting on the curb, “but I'm gonna dig in.”

But before he could even take a sandwich out of the bag, Claire snatched the whole thing out of his hands, laughing.

“We'd be more comfortable over there,” she said, gesturing to a few tables in the picnic area.

* * *

**Jake:**

Claire and Piers made me go across the parking lot supporting me on each side like a little old lady. Not cool. But I was sure that I'd feel better once I had eaten, it had been months since I had really _eaten_ since I had been hooked up to an IV and received all nutrition artificially. I was craving a huge slab of greasy, finger-licking barbecue, and I hoped that Claire hadn't gotten me a salad.

About Piers, I had a theory: Redfield must have clocked him when he found out that he loved him. I couldn't think of any other way. I couldn't think of any other reason why Nivans would hide it from me. And that made me want to murder that jarhead because honestly, you'd have to be one of the biggest assholes on the planet to beat up a guy with only one arm.

Anyways, first things first: stuffing my face. Settling the score and digging up the truth could wait.

They set me down on the bench. Piers stayed close sitting right next to me, while Claire situated herself opposite us and began unpacking everything. For me it was Christmas. When I looked at the spread of triple cheeseburgers, pizza, and a supersized order of fries, I nearly cried tears of joy. (There was also a small salad, but I pretended not to notice and didn't give it a second glance.)

We dug in. Well, I did, mostly. Claire picked at a few French fries, Piers said he wasn't hungry. All the better, more for me. As I inhaled the entire pizza, they talked. Claire told how she had set the fire to the second floor of the hospital: she had parked her motorcycle in front of the windows, she climbed up the exterior, and pulling out a lighter and a can of spray deodorant, she set it all ablaze. She hides her true colors well, Ms. “I'm-a-hardcore-pacifist.”

+1 for the flames, +1 for the fast food, +1 for the high-speed chase and +20 for the awesome bike. It’s official: despite a -1 for the lame-ass brother, Claire Redfield deserved the title of Badass of the Year.

When she asked for our side of the story, how Piers had managed to get me out of the hospital, that was decidedly less glorified:

“Say that again? You got him across the entire floor by pushing him in an office chair? Awww, I really wish I had been to take pictures!”

Clearly our experience sounded more like a couple of middle-schoolers fooling around in the hallways than a rescue.

“But wait,” I cut in. “That's not even the best part. When we got to the stairs, we pretended like we were cancer patients so that the firefighters took pity on us and had us hauled out of there!”

Claire burst out laughing.

“What style,” she remarked. “That’s some classic quick thinking!”

“Not the BSAA way at all,” I added, breaking into a laugh myself.

“I did the best I could!” Nivans replied defensively.

He was taking it all seriously. Ever since we had reached the rest stop, Piers wasn't doing well and struggled to hide it all. We stopped laughing.

It's true that when he had come to get me back in the underwater facility with both his arms, his anti-materiel rifle, and Redfield, it had been much more spectacular. But even though Nivans may not have gotten us out today with as much style or grace, he had shown me the kind of courage he was really capable of. He had set out all by himself, with his body in tatters and that dinky toy gun, and he had dragged me out of that hellhole of a lab. And even with one hand, even with that ridiculous pistol, his aim didn't waver when he shot the glass tube to set me free.

I might have been being a bit dramatic, but… how many times did that make now, that you'd saved my life, Nivans? Or Redfield’s? Or Sherry’s? How many dozens upon dozens of lives have you saved, in all?

Nivans wasn't a guard dog in the end, as I had thought of him before. He was a fuckin’ St. Bernard. A savior. Even the C-Virus couldn't change that.

I balked at seeing him so defeated. He should have been rejoicing, celebrating my return to the real world, not getting all caught up in his head about it. I had a bad feeling that whatever had happened with Redfield had messed him up real good. His face was destroyed, and it looked like he had lost even more weight. And then there was his mutated half and his missing arm… it hadn't really been too much of a shock until then because I had only seen him in the confines of the hospital, but out in the open, it was much more jarring. It made him look like an invalid, completely fragile, even though I knew what feats he was still capable of, I had seen him in the hospital.

I felt the sudden urge to protect him. Nivans was my brother, that's how I thought of him. Besides, he had my antibodies, it was my blood that let him live. That was a bond I didn't share with anyone else.

All while devouring my cheeseburger with one hand, I slung my free hand around his neck.

“That just goes to show that you're one hell of a hero, Nivans. You don't need the BSAA for that. So c'mon, eat something, you're all skin and bones.”

He pushed the fries away, but he didn't push me. In fact, he leaned into my arm a little absent-mindedly. The cold, I imagine. And the fatigue; he needed a support to fall asleep on. The sun was starting to set and we were in the middle of the desert, it gets chilly at night. And on top of that it was December. In any case, I was more than happy to have Two-Face and his gross mutation all over me.

“So Claire,” he asked after a wide yawn. “How in the world did you get to the hospital so quickly? Usually it takes 45 minutes from your place. Were you already in the neighborhood or what?”

Claire leaned forward over the table conspiratorially, grinning wickedly.

“Bingo. I was right in front of the hospital when you called me, I was parked, hidden behind the dumpsters.

“What, why?” Nivans asked, stunned.

“Um well… to tell you the truth… I was stalking you. Don't take it the wrong way, but it was just impossible to approach you these past few weeks, and Chris wouldn't stop harassing me through the phone to know if you were doing okay, so since I knew when your check-ups were I came just to make sure you were still holding up. I do it every Saturday.”

Woah! Claire never ceases to amaze. I was a bit worried that Nivans would lose it when he found out she'd been spying on him, but his reaction was something else entirely. He seemed a bit taken aback at first, but redressed himself. Then with his next question he went for detached without fooling anybody:

“Chris asks about me?”

Hook, line, and sinker. With that, Claire's smile grew even larger.

“All the time. I've gotten more calls from him this past month than I've had in the last fifteen years, Piers. Don't think for a minute that he doesn't care about you or anything like that, you couldn't be further from the truth if you did.”

Nivans blushed, before quickly changing the subject.

“Any idea where we could hide Jake for the time being?”

“Don't you worry. It's all taken care of. We're all going to stay with a friend of mine.”

“And where's that?”

“Montana. You'll see, it's absolutely gorgeous there.”

Montana? Are you kidding me? Hell, I had spent months and months in America locked up, not getting to go out, I wanted to visit Las Vegas! Or Hollywood! Or go see the Grand Canyon! Not hide out in some bumfuck place in the middle of nowhere!

“I'm not allowed to leave the state,” worried Nivans. “I'm under medical surveillance, I have to show up every Saturday. The medications I need to keep me from mutating are still just prototypes, they aren't on the market yet.”

“First of all,” chuckled Claire, “you're not allowed to free test subjects, either. And as someone who was in the crowd when you guys came out of the hospital, I can assure you that everyone saw you.”

“But…”

“And as for your meds, it's okay. The antidote has been commercialized for a while now in Edonia and China, we can get it imported pretty easily. No excuses Piers, you're coming with. I'm not letting you run off all by yourself anymore. Chris has been too much of a thorn in my side for me to let you go.”

I was with Claire. Nivans was forbidden from leaving. I had spent months basically imprisoned by myself, and now that I was out, I wanted to FINALLY be able to take advantage of my role as “person who accompanies the handicapped” and go on all the theme park rides I wanted without having to stand in line. Hell yeah!

And besides that, I also had a few things to apologize for. How could I possibly do so if we didn't stick together? Nivans had saved my life, I had ruined his, and he had saved me again. It was time for me to even the odds.

Fortunately, he didn't even put up a fight.

“When do we leave?” he asked.

“We're just waiting on Sherry.”

My ears perked up at that.

“...I called her right away while waiting in line for the pizza. I told her to bring the car and join us. We can't drive all the way to Montana on the bike, you guys would freeze with the clothes you have on now.”

Uh oh, problem: ever since I had been free, I was asking myself all sorts of questions about Sherry. Where was she, what was she doing, how come she didn't come looking for me at the hospital? Weren't we supposed to be dating? And come to think of it, were we still?

I didn't ask at all because I didn't want them to think I gave a shit, but damn was it eating away at me. What if she gave me the silent treatment? What if she found another guy? What if she didn't love me anymore? But no way I could ask Claire all that, I'd look like a huge idiot.

On the other hand, it would be weird if I didn't ask anything. And plus I really _really_ wanted to know. I put on my best give-no-shits kind of voice, like “oh yeah my dog just died no biggie” level indifference, but to be honest it came out about as convincing as Nivans’ attempt at apathy just a few minutes prior.

“Oh yeah, Sherry, so how's she doin’ by the way?”

Whoops. Bad move. I thought snakes were going to grow out of Claire's hair with the glare she shot me.

“I highly suggest you start getting your apologies ready, Muller. What you did was not okay.”

Yeah, yeah I get it… but it's okay! It was a fight just like any other, right? And now that I was free, everything between me and Sherry could be worked out. We could finally have a normal life together. Well, unless she despised me now, which would just be really horrible timing.

“When will she be here?” Piers asked.

Claire checked her watch.

“It's a two-hour drive but adding the time it would take her to pack the bags… and considering the fact that she drives like an old lady, I’d guess that we still have a bit of time before she gets here.”

We ended up waiting for Sherry a super long time. Nivans fell asleep at the picnic table, his head cradled in his arm. It must have been a trick he learned in the army, being able to sleep anywhere. I… threw up on the pavement. Shit happens. I shouldn't have eaten so much after being kept on the IV for so many months. After eating the first few slices of the pizza I was no longer hungry, but I was just so glad to be able to eat real food! I had missed it too much. So no regrets. Even if most of that food was now an orange mess reeking in the parking lot.

We also had a soap opera moment where I said sorry to Nivans for having betrayed him regarding Redfield, Nivans in turn said sorry to Claire for shutting her out all this time, and Claire said sorry to me for having encouraged Sherry to perform a voodoo ritual against me.

“It was just to get her out of her head a bit, you know? I didn't think it would work so well. And I'm sorry that we had so much fun doing so.”

Wait… WHAT?

Claire and Sherry, sticking needles in a mini-Jake while cackling like witches. Unforgivable.

But fine, since Nivans had just told me he didn't care that I was a traitor and that he was glad I was here, I felt obligated to tell Claire that it was no big deal that she had spurred my girl to perform black magic on me instead of coming to save me. Those conniving harpies. Someone’s getting their bike keyed up.

 

When Sherry’s car pulled up in the parking lot, my stress levels skyrocketed. What should I tell her? What should I do if she was still mad at me? Claire ran up to the car to greet her and there I was, my ass glued to the bench like an absolute idiot. As Sherry stepped out of the car, she exchanged a few words with Claire and then she looked at me. I felt dumb as shit. I wanted for her to run toward me, for her to leap into my arms. Instead she was content to just wave me over. And they say that romance is dead. I got up, still asking myself all the while what the hell I was gonna say to her without pissing her off further.

On the plus side, I had at least regained some of my strength: I was able to walk on my own all the way to the car, which I ended up leaning against anyways. Sherry paid no attention to me, she was rifling through the contents of the trunk with Claire. Going for casual, I asked:

“Hey, Supergirl! What's new?”

Pitiful. I was ashamed of myself. Sherry gave me a look that was indecipherable.

“Jake, you look like you're out of shape,” she greeted.

I know, thanks. Can I go now? Too bad Nivans was still passed out on the table, I would have really liked to have him next to me right now, to make me look better. Compared to him and his mutated mug, I could practically be a model!

“Hey, come here!” called Claire, grabbing a few garbage bags from the trunk. “Sherry brought some clothes for you.”

Rummaging through the bags, I found Claire's clothes, Sherry’s, Nivans’ that he had left at the Redfields’, and…

“No way I'm wearing Chris’ stuff, you gotta be kidding me!”

Claire shot me a second glare that nearly put the fear of God in me.

“By the way Muller, where'd you happen to get this vest that you're wearing? That's weird, it looks exactly like the one that my brother lost about six months ago and has been looking everywhere for it since.”

Yeah. Okay.

I went through the bag a bit more to find what I really needed. For now I just wanted some jeans, a pair of sneakers, maybe a sweater. I already had the vest for warmth, and as for underwear, forget about it. I preferred to keep my hospital gown underneath until I could buy some myself.

Sherry helped me put on the clothes. Did that mean that we weren't fighting anymore? There were a ton of things I wanted to say to her, and she wanted to talk as well, I could feel it. But neither of us dared to. Claire was right there and we needed to get out of here, fast. It wasn't the best time.

“Get in the car,” was all she said. “We're heading out.”

She opened the door for me and fastened my seatbelt, like you would a baby. And as she leaned in to do so, I could smell her scent, feel her breath. Her chest lightly brushed up smart me. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and hold her against my body, but she already got up. As she was leaving, I grabbed her gently by the wrist.

“Sherry!” I began. “When we got into a fight last time, I… I wasn’t thinking, I didn't mean what I said.”

She looked at me.

“I didn't think we were together anymore,” she murmured. “Since you never responded to my calls, I thought we were over.”

“No,” I answered vehemently. “I was… Claire must have told you, they locked me up. I really wanted to call you, but I couldn't! I couldn't but damn I wanted to so bad!”

Finally, I saw her smile for the first time since we'd met up. And at the same time I noticed that she looked drained, her too. Like our supposed breakup must have really taken a toll on her. I felt myself swell with pride.

She ran her hand through her hair.

“We’ll talk about everything when things settle down, okay? Now we've got all the time in the world.”

“Yeah.”

All the time in the world. I liked the sound of that.

Across the way, Claire shook Piers at the picnic table to wake him up. I don't know whether he learned how to fall asleep like that in the army, but what was clear was that he had missed the course on how to wake up. He was still half asleep when as he dragged himself towards the the car. The three of them discussed something briefly outside before Nivans clambered in the back seat, and Sherry took the wheel. Claire jumped back on her bike and soon we were back on the highway, right on her tail.

“Do you know where we're headed?” I asked Sherry.

She shrugged her shoulders.

“No idea. Claire told me it'd be a surprise, a good one. All I know is that from now on, wel stick together.”

She smiled at Nivans through the rear-view. Not that it helped, as he was already fast asleep again, lying lengthwise across the backseat. With his hand clutched against his amputated shoulder and his head turned towards the back of the chair, he would have missed the gesture even if he had been conscious.

I looked from Nivans’ sleeping form back over to Sherry, who gave me a bright, but tired, smile before turning her eyes back to the road to follow Claire’s tail lights in the distance. I turned to watch the passing countryside out my own window, thinking back to what my girl had said.

_From now on, we stick together_. I liked that.

I ended up falling asleep as well. I would rather have stayed awake, seeing how it was my first day in months spent out in the world. I wanted to watch the scenery go by, I wanted to catch up with Sherry… but I was really just too exhausted. Which was understandable, considering the last 24 hours had been insane.

I don't know how long I slept, but it must have been more or less the whole trip. When I woke up, it looked like it wasn't too long until dawn. The landscape had changed entirely; instead of sand dunes I saw snow-covered pines on either side. Welcome to Montana, the least populated state in the entire United States. I could just barely hear music playing on the radio - Sherry had it turned down and was focused on driving - but I could make out enough crooning and twanging to tell it was an old country song. Out in front, Claire must have been slipping and sliding on her bike trying to navigate the roads, freezing her ass off. I turned back towards Nivans. He was awake now too, and was gazing absently out the window.

“You good back there?” I asked him.

He nodded his head, smiling vaguely.

“How about you Supergirl, holdin’ on?”

“I'm a little tired, I’ll be glad when we get there.”

I stretched out in my seat. It honestly felt so nice, having the three of them close with me. No matter what bumfuck place in the middle of nowhere we ended up in, it was alright with me.

Aaand, I spoke too soon. The road we were driving on was quickly approaching an ominous-looking concrete wall, rising about ten feet high and topped with barbed wire. Hardly reassuring. When Claire pulled up to the great metal gate that allowed passage into whatever Area 51 type facility was inside, we all wondered a bit what the hell we were getting ourselves into.

_Government restricted area_ , a sign read. _Entry forbidden, danger of death._

This place really knew how to throw a welcome party.

Claire held some sort of card up to the reader l on the side of the gate, entered a code into a pin pad, and stood back as it slid open, groaning and creaking all the while. Quick Sherry, turn around, while there's still time! Get us the hell out of here!

Too late. Claire had already hopped back on her bike and disappeared further down the road, engulfed by the dense growth of trees obscuring our vision deeper into the area. Sherry followed faithfully behind her, sealing our certain deaths without even batting an eye.

* * *

**Piers:**

I was definitely asking myself what kind of place we had just entered, but I had faith in Claire. At the moment, we were driving on a stretch of winding road through the forest, trees on all sides preventing us from seeing what was up ahead.

“What the hell is this shit?” Jake demanded, bristling as he looked out the window. “Is she taking us back to Raccoon City or something?”

When we reached a fork in the road, Claire took a left on to a dirt road. Not too much further after that, it opened up into a clearing, and we found ourselves staring up at a grand estate standing amidst the trees.

Claire put her bike in park and honked several times. It was barely even six in the morning, but it didn't seem to be much of a concern to her, waking up whoever lived here. She dismounted her bike and took off her helmet, just as a pair of figures emerged from the estate.

Sherry let out a small exclamation of delight upon seeing them. I recognized them as well, it was Agent Kennedy and the young woman who accompanied him that day when we almost had Ada Wong. Jake seemed to know them as well:

“Oh man, not them!” he groaned.

Sherry shot him a death glare before climbing out of the car to meet them. Claire had already jumped into Agent Kennedy’s arms, who was currently rubbing her shoulders to warm them up from the cold. Speaking of, now that we had stopped and the ambient air was setting in, it was freezing out here. The snow-lined trees all around us were probably a good indication of that. I sat there shivering in the car while Chris friend gave Sherry a great big hug, and Jake watched on icily. The man then pushed the two girls towards the inside while beckoning us to do the same with a tilt of the head. I got out and followed them, Jake falling in step with me as we approached the door, where the young woman was waiting for us. We exchanged a few shy hellos before she brought us inside as well.

In the foyer we were met with a shivering Claire, teeth rattling together as she tried to warm her icy hands against her equally blue cheeks.

“Go and take a shower, get yourself warmed up, you hear?” Agent Kennedy told her, “What possessed you to come here on your bike? You couldn't have just left out somewhere and come in Sherry’s car?”

“I'd never abandon my bike,” she laughed, despite the cold. “It's saved my life more times than you have!”

“You sure about that?”

They traded a couple of laughs like they were old friends. Then Claire looked to us:

“I'm going to go take a shower, I'm practically frozen. I'll let you guys get acquainted.”

And with that she disappeared up the stairs. It clearly wasn't the first time she'd been here.

Everyone found a seat in the living room, in front of a giant fireplace. Jake, Sherry, and I squeezed together on a single sofa. I was a bit on edge from being here, in a stranger's home. They had noticeably been prepared for our arrival, there was a hot meal and toasty beverages set out for us shortly after we had sat down.

The woman, who told us her name was Helena, wasn't much for talking. She stared at me a lot, studying my face. It was something that was never the most pleasant, but I'd gotten used to it. One thing at least was that she didn't look away when our eyes met, and there was no disgust in her face, just a sort of confusion that was a bit strange.

Neither of them had recognized me. I couldn't really hold it against them; I had changed a lot, after all. And besides, back at our last encounter Agent Kennedy had been busy rolling all over the floor with Chris to pay attention to me.

Sherry and Leon discussed the trip, the fact that we were going to be staying here for awhile, and how Claire was a real stubborn piece of work, while Jake sat there with his eyes narrowed, ready to spring into action at the least sign of threat.

“So what’s with this place?” Sherry asked Leon. “How come you aren't living at your place in New York? What are you doing in a government-restricted area?”

Agent Kennedy sighed and shared a meaningful look with Helena before launching into their story. During the outbreak at Tall Oaks, they had been forced to put down the President of the United States, who had been infected by the C-Virus. They had been pardoned by the government, but the news had been leaked to the press - how, no one was quite certain - and their respective residences had been vandalized by some _model citizens_ who wouldn't listen to reason. They had received so many letters containing death threats that when their F.O.S. coordinator, Agent Hunnigan, offered to house them here under the protection of the State, they had finally accepted. In the end, even if their lives weren't the same and they often felt like they couldn't stand each other anymore, they were actually happier here together than each of them on their own, trying to live with passersby egging their houses every day.

Jake, apparently, only got one thing from their story:

“So your name is Kennedy… and you killed the president. Heh.”

Leon cut him off.

“Cut that out this instant, Jake. Everybody has made that joke to me. All the cops, the journalists, hell, even the photocopier guy’s done it.”

Jake got hurt by that, I think. In any case he said no more. I gave Leon a great round of applause in my head for finally getting him to shut his trap.

* * *

**Jake:**

Well, lah-di-dah… _ooh_ look at me, my name is Leon, and I've got nice _hair_ … Damn it, I know we shouldn't have come here, I could tell right away that this was a mistake. We should have gone to Vegas instead. And if this old man tries to make a move on my girl, I'm gonna make him eat his bangs.

Almost as if on cue, he casually asked Sherry if she and I were together. I could have spit out my hot cocoa.

“Yeah,” I snapped, before she had the time to respond.

I thought I had made the right move, in any case, because I didn't know what she was about to say. She seemed to hesitate a bit. Mr. Kennedy over there raised an eyebrow, making me want to shave the smug bastard’s brow right off.

But there was no time to dissipate the awkwardness off the moment because suddenly we heard Claire call Sherry from upstairs. She went up to go check, and then came back shortly thereafter, gathering up her coat as she headed towards the door.

“Claire needs me to get something from the trunk. I'll be back.”

Nobody offered to go with her to help, not even Mr. Perfect. It definitely sounded like it was _girl stuff_ , and neither of us would dare risk getting involved with that. And Helena looked like she couldn't be bothered to care what Sherry got up to, she was busy staring at Nivans with a look that seemed to suggest she was trying to find the meaning of life somewhere in sad, mutated face.

Nivans himself was just staring at the ground, probably lost in his usual melancholy. I… well, I was busy sulking, there, I said it. Leon didn't let me finish telling my joke. Needless to say, Sherry took the conversation with her when she left.

Ever the one to make small talk, Leon turned towards Frankenstein sitting next to me.

“C-Virus?” he asked gently.

Nivans nodded. I stretched my arm out across the back of the sofa around him, in a way that was beyond possessive. It was a clear warning saying _hands off, bitches_. If I heard the slightest comment, the slightest thing that might make him feel bad, I'd go straight for their throat.

Irony, huh? I'd become the guard dog to the guard dog. Yeah, yeah, I know, still doesn't trump a Kennedy who shot the President.

“Good thing we've got a cure now,” Leon remarked, smiling at me.

If he thought he'd win me over this way, he must have still had his stupid pretty boy hair blocking his eyes. At that moment, Helena, who I had begun to suspect was both deaf and dumb, opened her mouth to speak:

“We've already met, right?” she asked Piers, slowly. “Weren’t you in China with Chris Redfield in the BSSA?”

Leon did a double take.

“Yes, I was.” Nivans confirmed. “I was his lieutenant. We were chasing Ada Wong when we ran into you guys.”

“The sniper?” Kennedy gaped. “That was you?”

“Affirmative.”

Leon’s expression changed. A certain kind of pain seemed to pass behind his eyes.

“What happened to you?” he wondered aloud, a sort of gentle invitation to explain.

Piers sat upright, undoubtedly sensing that everyone was pitying him in this moment. He gave the briefest account of what happened: he and Chris had come across a giant monster when coming to rescue us in the underwater facility. _I lost my arm_ , he said, _I was infected_ , as if it had been an accident. He hadn't disclosed that he had pushed Redfield into the escape pod. He had given his dear Captain the role of the hero even after everything.

“How were you infected,” asked Leon pensively. “By a gas?”

“... More or less.”

Ok, that's where I draw the line. I couldn't just let Nivans look like an idiot in front of these guys. Leon’s pitying look made me angry. Nivans had nothing to be ashamed of for what he did, in fact, it was just the opposite. He should be proud of what he did, even if Chris had rejected him.

“As if,” I interrupted, in a huff. “He injected himself with the virus, to save Redfield

And then after that, he saved me and Sherry, ‘cause we hadn’t been able to make it out.”

I told them the real story of everything that Nivans has done: the arm, the escape pod, everything. Leon and Helena’s eyes were now filled with admiration. And since I was already going strong, I kept going and I told how Redfield had acted like an absolute piece of shit after that.

“That's enough Jake, goddamnit, now you're just making things up! Chris never hit me! And I never told him that I loved him.”

“Yeah, sure. Where'd you get that black eye then?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“But it's true?” Helena interrupted. “You're in love with Chris?”

Nivans turned red like a tomato.

“That's my own problem,” he answered curtly.

C'mon Nivans, when were you gonna learn that hiding things and not telling the truth were only going to make you more unhappy? Helena and Leon didn't even react that bad anyways, they just laughed.

“Don't worry, Piers,” Leon reassured him, “We won't judge. But a word of advice: never trust Jake with a secret.”

“Leon is a pro on the subject of unrequited love. He's going to want to give you all sorts of his ‘wisdom,’ but I'd say don't put too much stock into them. They never really worked out for him, isn't that right, Leon?”

And just like that, we were laughing. But we were quickly cut short by the voodoo witch herself, entering the living room wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and fiery with anger despite her hair still partly damp from the shower.

“Unbelievable!” she yelled at us. “You let Sherry unload the car all by herself? When she drove all night while you guys slept? You lousy bums!”

We got up somewhat sheepishly and went to bring in the bags that Sherry had tossed in the foyer just inside the door, all under the assassin glare of Claire Redfield. It might not be so bad here for us after all. We might even be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **And voilà!**   
>  **So? So? Leon, what did you think? I tried not to be too mean with him, he's got so many fans! I'm afraid I'd lose all my readers if I don't pay him enough respect XD.**   
>  **And a super-sized thank you to all of you for your reviews! They really make me so happy to read every time! (I know I've said it like 20 times now, but… c'mon, one more for the road: thank you times infinity! \^v^/)**   
>  _Translator's note:_   
>  _Hey there readers! First of all, a big THANK YOU to anyone who's been following this, thank you for being patient with me for all of six months (yikes!) I have had a lot of things change in my life in this past half a year, and managing my free time has been a challenge for me! But especially with the release of the RE2 remake (with a younger Leon in HD and a very handsome DLC outfit ;)), I've wanted to try to get back on a more regular schedule for working on this translation, because I love the story and it really has been such a great project for me! And speaking of Leon, here he is in all his RE6 glory! Hope you guys enjoyed his and Helena's appearances as minor roles in this story, I definitely enjoyed this change in scenery in this fic. Anyways, thank you all so much if you're still reading this fic, it really means a lot to me and the author! Hopefully the next chapter won't take nearly as long :)_


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Translator’s note:_   
>  _Hi everyone! I apologize for the delay, but believe it or not, I think I’m getting back into a good rhythm for updating! I wanted to take this time to thank each and every one of our readers and reviewers, for motivating me to keep finding time to update this translation! I also wanted to thank you all on behalf of the original author, whose chapter notes contained a big, big thank you to the story’s readers. Though I don’t know that there are too many of the original readers of this wonderful fic still reading my humble translation (here’s to you, Sojiku!), I appreciate all of you who read, review, and just enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed the original story written by sorryformyenglish, and I think they definitely appreciate all of you too!_   
>  _Now without further ado, Chapter 15! It’s a bit of a transition, but I hope you enjoy it just the same!_

**Post injection 15.**

**Jake:**

It didn't take much time for me to recover from my months as a guinea pig. A day of full meals, a good night's rest, and I was  already doing much better. The first night at the estate was hardly fabulous though. We had just gotten there and we already had to divide the rooms, damn what a drag!

Upstairs, there were three large rooms, all with double beds. Leon and Helena each occupied one. There was also a small room on the ground floor that was well hidden away, covered in cobwebs and a moth-eaten cot that looked ready to fall apart. Even though it was supposed to be a room, it was called “the closet” because Leon and Helena had dumped all the empty suitcases in there along with the cleaning supplies. Naturally, I assumed that Sherry and I would be taking the remaining room with the double bed and we'd leave the loveless losers to figure things out amongst themselves. It’s only makes sense that couples get priority, right? We're the ones who will be counted on to repopulate the earth, so make way!

Before I had time to voice my opinion though, Claire, a perfect mother hen, turned toward Sherry:

“Where do you want to sleep, sweetheart?”

“Umm… Could we share the room upstairs?”

What a traitor! For shame! Needless to say, it was like a dagger right in my heart. Claire shot me a glance, but the worst was Leon, who just sat there smirking. I resisted the urge to cause a scene in front of Sherry, I acted like I didn't give a damn. The girls went up to put their things in their room without remorse. I was seething.

Now we were left with four people for three rooms. Obviously, no one wanted to put Nivans in the closet. The poor guy already looked like a detective product, that would really be adding insult to injury to make him sleep between the mop and the ironing board. Out of nowhere, Leon offered to give him his room and take the closet himself. And as Helena didn't seem about to do the same for me, I had no other choice but to take the couch in the living room.

What a bitch, that Sherry. After all that time of us dreaming of being able to sleep together like normal people! And now that we actually had the chance, she chose to stay with her bestie. Sell-out.

I stewed about the injustice of it all as I lay there, stretched out as best as I could along the sofa, under a quilt that smelled like rotten cabbage. It was a hard leather couch, and not a futon, which is to say that it wasn't comfortable at all. On top of that, I was next to the kitchen with what seemed to be the loudest running refrigerator ever, and above all, I was super worked up. No way I could fall asleep.

And shit. I might not have been handicapped like Nivans, but I just got out of being stuck in a tube full of formaldehyde, I deserve a real bed with a real mattress as much as he did.

I got up, I took my stuff, and I went up to the room where he was sleeping. And would you look at that. If I couldn't remember where I had left the vest that I had “borrowed” from Redfield, it was because it was right here, cradled up in Nivans’ arm.

This needed to stop, it was all covered in that disgusting gunk I was bathed in from the tube. Leon was not going to be pleased when he saw what Nivans had dragged in his bed. Besides, that thing would have long lost Redfield’s scent by now. It had already been washed once after Nivans had mutated all over it, I remember what a crisis that had been. I wasn’t sure if he'd have the strength to wash it a second time, though it definitely needed to be. It was painful to see all over again, him clutching it like a souvenir, a remnant of Redfield. He was still so in love, it was crazy.

Now for the problem at hand: Nivans may have lost an arm but still somehow managed to take up the entire bed. I called his name but he didn't react. Next I tried making all sorts of noise to rouse him, but no luck. Finally, I shook him. Not very nice, I know.

“Huh?” came Nivans, blinking groggily.

“Scooch over, let me have some room.”

He sat up in the bed and rolled over to one side. I could take over the bed like a king.

“What's going on?” he asked, completely addled.

“Nothing. I'm sleeping here is all. If you’re not happy with it, the sofa’s all yours.”

Nivans just stared for several seconds. This guy was always so out of it right after waking up.

Without another word, he ultimately returned you lying down on his side, his back turned towards me. I tried to finally get to sleep, but I was still too pissed so I grumbled:

“I can't believe Sherry chose to share a room with Claire.”

To my great surprise, I heard Nivans laugh as he turned back to face me.

“Haha, that's right. You should have seen the look on your face when she announced that.”

“Oh no you didn't!” I shot back, getting pissed. “Did you see me laughing, when Redfield dumped you?”

That shut him up, but I immediately regretted it.

“It's not the same,” he sighed. “Sherry’s still right there. You’re lucky, you can still talk to her, you can apologize, you can hold her in your arms without it being… I don't know, unacceptable.”

I said nothing in response. Nivans was really the worst person to complain to when it came to your love life. His was so royally fucked! And the fact that it was partly my fault didn't help. And yet, he still told me, as proof that I hadn't lost everything with Sherry, how she had come to see him looking like utter shit to talk about me.

“She resented you for about a month. Put yourself in her shoes, she thought that you didn't want her anymore and that you didn't even bother to tell her. She was miserable and mad at you. And then one day you suddenly reappear, and she has to act like nothing happened. Give her a bit of time. It's already good that she hasn't yelled at you.”

“It's not like it's my fault I was fuckin’ kidnapped!”

“I know. And Sherry does too.”

“Mmh.”

I turned the other way. Nivans must have be right. If I behaved a bit better with Sherry, things would surely fix themselves in no time.

The next morning, I got up early. Everyone was still sleeping when I came down into the kitchen. And now, this might come as a shock to some, but I actually know how to cook. Not as good as Redfield, fine, but definitely a million times better than Sherry.

I made some pancakes. My plan was to make a breakfast fit for a princess, bring it up to Sherry, boot Claire’s ass out with a big kick, and then make up with my girlfriend under the covers while we got ourselves sticky with maple syrup. Hey, even I know how to be romantic.

I even set aside a whole time slot in my schedule for the ‘I'm sorry’s and blah blah blah for my perfect plan. You can't say that I don't make compromises!

My plan was utterly foolproof, I had even managed to make one or two pancakes in the shape of a heart, (which ended up in the garbage, I wasn't ready for that kind of thing yet) when Helena walked into the kitchen.

Apparently she wasn't a morning person. She mumbled something in place of a ‘good morning,’ and then she made for the coffee pot like a guided robot. As she passed though, she picked up my plate of piping hot pancakes, and devoured it right up!

“Hey!” I yelled. “Does this look like a continental breakfast to you? Those aren't for you! They're for Sherry!”

“Excuse me!” she replied savagely. “I didn't see her name written on them!”

And bam, the fatass gobbled up another one right under my nose. We got into a shouting match, something I hadn't gotten into with anyone for some time now, and Harper knew how to hold her own. I was furious, but I have to admit that a part of me was enjoying it.

Leon came at just the right moment: Helena had thrown her coffee in my face, and I had retaliated by dumping the bag of flour over her head.

“Take it easy, will you? What's gotten into you?”

Out of great respect for him, I won't describe the state of his hair after waking up in the morning. There are some things better left to the imagination.

“Did we wake you up?” asked Helena, sounding mildly concerned.

“Take a guess,” groaned Kennedy.

It probably is worth pointing out that the closet was just between the bathroom and the kitchen. Honestly, it was surprising that he was only woken up just now.

“I'm warning you, you both had better clean up this mess.”

Helena immediately jumped in like a schoolgirl, telling him it was all my fault because I didn't want to share my breakfast. Leon simply looked on in consternation amid the morning's hysteria. And then he must have thought it looked liked a continental breakfast as well, because he stole a pancake himself. I nearly blew a gasket while Helena laughed, mocking me.

“For Christ's sake!” I yelled, snatching back the plate. “Those are for Sherry!”

Leon wasn’t as keen on starting a shouting match as quickly as his friend:

“I'm not sure I've quite understood your relationship with Sherry,” he responded, skeptical. “Are you sure you two are together? You don't really seem to give that impression.”

I couldn't believe it. I was going to strangle him.

At that moment, Sherry entered the kitchen, rubbing her eyes drowsily. Damn, she was too precious after waking up, with her hair all sticking up and the sleepy little pout on her face. But thanks to those two freeloaders, Harper and Kennedy, my plan was ruined! Sherry waved a polite good morning, absolutely adorable, and then did a double take, dumbstruck by the devastated kitchen.

“What happened?” she asked, bewildered.

That piece of shit Leon just held out the pancakes, acting all innocent.

“Ooh, you guys made some pancakes? It's been ages since I had any! They look really good!”

At that I had enough, I went to the living room to fume. To take up my old habits again, I turned on the TV. I had missed an entire month and now I'd never know who won the final rose on the Bachelor. What shit luck.

Sherry came to join me on the sofa. As I was super pissed, I ignored her.

“Helena told me that you made breakfast for me?”

She smiled a bit shyly. My pride had me wanting to say no, but I didn't want to hurt her. I shrugged. We both sat silently for a moment. I couldn't thinking of anything to say that would make things right without sounding like a moron. Sherry’s better than me at those kinds of things.

“Do you remember what we were fighting about?” she asked.

Oh I remembered all right, it was my fault again. But I didn't want to drag all that back up.

“Bah, it was… it was something about a fridge, I think.”

“That's right. Something about a fridge.”

She seemed disappointed. I took a deep breath and tried to come out with something kinda sentimental:

“I never stopped thinking about you when I was stuck in that tube of goop.”

So romantic. But Sherry still smiled in spite of it all, which was encouraging. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry for having spoken to her poorly, and that I was trying every day to become a better person. And that I needed her for that, I loved her more than anything.

I mumbled two or three apologies, not the most important ones. But that was enough for Sherry, because she understands me so well.

“Can we start over with a clean state?” she asked me.

I took her in my arms and held her tight. A clean slate, and this time it would be great.

We spent the rest of the day making out and cuddling in front of everybody. Boy, was it nice to be free. We were more relaxed, everything was going better. And in the next few days, the division of the rooms was changed: Claire brazenly went to squat Helena’s room, to give me a space with Sherry. And it was less than two days before Leon cracked and asked Piers if he could share as well, because the cot in the closet was too hard on his back.

So in the end, the rooms were arranged like this:

At the end of the hallway, the lovers; Sherry and I could finally be left alone to make sweet, sweet love.

In the middle, tormented and lovelorn; Nivans and Kennedy probably sighing dejectedly each in their own corner as they thought about the love of their life.

At the top of the stairs, the hyenas from hell. Claire the sorceress. Harper the harpy. Brr. I threw salt over my shoulder every time I passed in front of their door.

The closet: empty. We could stick Redfield in there if he came, but the cot would likely risk collapsing under his weight.

Coming back to Claire and Helena, they were real pests to Leon, those two. They spent all their time teasing him. Look, maybe it was less because they were mean but because Leon invited that kind of stuff, since even Sherry who is the literal embodiment of kindness permitted a few digs at him. Leon clearly had a problem with women. Either they just didn't care about him at all, or they were obsessed with him to the point of harassment. From what I understood, he’d been in love with a girl for years, and unfortunately for him, she belonged to the first category of women.

It was Claire and Sherry’s favorite topic to tease him on because they knew the lucky girl: it was another survivor from Raccoon City. Clearly, people made connections for life back there.

Raccoon City, boy that was a long time ago. That meant that Leon had been suffering his one-sided love for fifteen years now. Whether that would give Nivans a new sense of hope or rather lead him to further despair, I wasn’t sure. That being said, the “one-sided” part remained to be seen. Leon was always very evasive when he talked about her, and despite their harassing the girls weren’t able to manage to get anything from him.

“According to Helena,” reflected Sherry, “you ran into this girl in China and you held her in your arms. So there must have been something between the two of you.”

“And if that wasn't the case,” commented Claire, “at least that means that you're making progress! Congrats Leon, in five to ten years, she'll maybe let you touch her hair!”

“Hold on,” interrupted Helena. “I forgot to mention that she was unconscious when he held her in his arms. Does that still count?”

And then the three she-devils burst out laughing, all  he while with Leon just standing there, acting like he was above it all. That just made me want to join in making fun of him too, but when I found out that his imaginary girlfriend was named Ada Wong, I spit out my orange juice. As for Nivans, he straight up fell out of his chair.

“Ada Wong?!” I exclaimed. “But that's that super hot milf that hired me to test out the C-Virus!

“You were in love with Ada?” came Nivans at the same time.

Apparently, everyone and their grandma knew this woman. Who knew she was such a celebrity. Kennedy ignored me to respond to Nivans.

“Yeah. And I still am. What gives, making me think that she was dead? Did you guys think that was funny?”

Nivans looked genuinely confused:

“But… she’s dead. Or she should be. We saw her fall probably a hundred feet off the top of an aircraft carrier on to deck below.”

“And yet she was alive and well not one hour after you guys told me she was dead.”

They both sat there for a moment, perplexed, reflecting on this great cosmic mystery, how one woman could have died and come back to life within the hour. I'm telling you, it made my head spin, so I got up and left the table with Sherry.

“Super hot milf, huh?” she remarked, casting me a sidelong glance.

Oops.

* * *

The days passed with joy and good spirits, and if I stopped being cynical for a moment, I had to recognize that I loved living here with everyone. It was like having a family, something I had never really known. Mom had always been great, but she was always at the hospital and I often found myself alone growing up. Never here. There was someone to talk to all the time. After having lived a year in partial or complete isolation, it was incredible! We argued, we split up the chores and who would run errands, we all watched TV together, we played board games… All simple things, but they were things that I never had the chance to do. Actually, I wasn’t sure that any of us really did.

We celebrated Christmas, and then New Year's like a real family, like I had never ever done. I had grumbled about it at the start, I said that it was pointless and that they were just all commercial ploys to get you to buy stuff, and Helena added that we weren't kids anymore. But Claire wouldn't hear a word of it, and when she came back with a real tree, and Sherry and Leon brought back a whole three bags full of decorations, Harper and I kept our mouths shut. I swear, it was like we really were children again. Like Umbrella and bioterrorism had never existed.

At the heart of our group, forming the glue that held us together despite our sometimes clashing personalities, were Leon, Claire, and Sherry. Those three made the most solid family I'd ever seen. When I watched all of them chatting as they dried the dishes after dinner, they seemed so close with each other that I felt a twinge of longing, I wanted so much to be a part of their family too. I know that I never would be completely, because they formed their bonds back in Raccoon City. But living together like this, it was inevitable to get closer to one another, and we formed our own bonds between our group. I wasn’t sure if they’d last, but I hoped with all my heart that they would. I think it was the same for Piers and Helena. We were all a bit caught up with the idea of family, what with one of us never really having one, another not having one anymore, and the other having a lousy one. To see Leon, Claire and Sherry playing mom and dad was captivating.

Things were so good and so far removed from the outside world that at times I felt like we were living in a sitcom. Starring Leon and Claire, the parents; Sherry, their cute daughter; Helena, the bitter aunt who just showed up one day and has been living here ever since; me, the daughter’s rough-around-the-edges boyfriend; and Nivans, the somewhat maladjusted neighbor kid who came to seek refuge in our happy home.

True to his role, Leon wouldn't stop nagging everyone about the chores. We each had to take turns doing the dishes, or vacuuming the living room, or taking out the trash, and a bunch of other dumb shit like that. He has decided that Piers would be exempt under the pretext that he was handicapped, but it was really just because Piers was his favorite. Kennedy considered himself a bit responsible for Piers’ current state, because from what I gathered, it was he who had asked Redfield and Nivans to come look for us in the underwater facility. And then Nivans was also the only one of us that didn't make fun of Leon, not to mention that they shared a room. Which, now that I think about it…

“Hey Nivans, why are you still hung up on Redfield, there are a ton of better guys out there. Like, I dunno… Leon! Don't you fancy Leon? With his… hair and everything? No?”

I mimed coiffing that famous hair, pushing it to the side and blowing it out of my eyes, before Nivans stopped me short with a look of disdain.

“Seriously? You're trying to set me up with Leon?”

“...Yeah okay, that's super dumb. But you're not making any effort either! Redfield isn't the only guy living on this planet!”

At that, Nivans just gazed off into the distance. Lost again. This happened every time we talked about Chris.

While I was pretty ecstatic about our new lives, Piers was decidedly less so. He hadn’t really gotten any better since we got here, but neither was he in a state that was any cause for alarm. He maintained a more or less acceptable level of depression, let’s say. He ate what seemed to be three meals of nothing per day, but he was able to hold conversations. I tried to motivate him to get active again, to come running with me in the mornings, but he didn't have the energy, unlike those days back at the hospital when he was so motivated to do keep up with his physical therapy. Losing Redfield had made him lose a good deal of his desire to stay in shape, despite already having one less arm. He couldn't be bothered about it anymore. And instead of trying to learn how to do things on his own, he now asked for help directly, or just let it go. I can say, however, that it didn't bother me to see him like this. It outright pained me.

When I started to find some of his T-shirts that were covered in J’avo blood (something I was beginning to recognize) in the laundry bin, I figured out that he was mutilating his arm again, just like when we first found him in the underwater facility. That scared me shitless. The hacking of the machete, the gore and pus that came off of his arm, but most of all, the manic desperation with which he tried to remove the limb, those memories were absolutely haunting. I tried to approach him about it, but it just ended with us yelling at each other. And I did it more than a few times, because it was still reassuring to hear him get angry and shout at me like he used to before.

On the plus side, he was still continuing to take his medications regularly. He had a whole slew of them, at least ten different bottles to not confuse with each other, which he left all around the house and spent a large part of his time looking for. To see him ingesting the little packets of my antibodies during our mealtimes filled me with pride.

“Which ones are my antibodies?” I asked him randomly one day.

He showed me a bottle of generic drugs with a name that I couldn't even try to pronounce. I was so proud, which made him laugh.

The reason I remembered that instance so well was because it was so rare to hear him laugh these days. And when the laughter died down and was replaced with that same old absent look on his face, I wanted to grab him by the shoulder, shake him up and down, and yell at him,

“JUST FORGET HIM ALREADY, FOR FUCK’S SAKE! YOU DON'T NEED HIM! YOU'RE A MILLION TIMES BETTER THAN THAT LOUSY, FORTY-YEAR-OLD PIECE OF SHIT!”

What would it take for him to understand that? I could repeat it to him thirty times a day, but nothing would reach him. Clearly, he was in the process of throwing his life away, right when he had the chance to be happy. I hated Redfield so much for that, I could kill him. Even if, like Claire said, there's not much we could do if he just didn't love him back.

* * *

**Chris:**

The mission was not going great. Once again, we were supposed to search for evidence of illegal research in a shady lab, but upon our arrival, the bioterrorists had set off a failsafe that had released a virus and contaminated the entire facility. Just like that, no more witnesses. Their personnel almost certainly hadn't signed up for that.

And so, once again, I found myself fighting through zombies, zombie dogs, zombified lab chimps, and unidentified BOWs. I had already lost two of my men.

Eventually, we made our way to the heart of the lab, where all the data was still stored. At that point it had been days since we had seen any other human beings. Everything that could have been alive was instead infected and had been let loose to roam the facility. It was a struggle, their numbers were too great. In order to retrieve the data I had to leave most of my team outside the main hub, securing our way out and keeping it clear of any hostiles while I took my lieutenant and a tech specialist in with me to perform the extraction. If the corridor was overrun, we’d never be able to make it out alive.

My soldier was able to infiltrate their system by hacking a terminal to bypass the password, but of course, it set off an alarm. Suddenly, zombies poured in from every entrance. As I took out the most immediate threats with my combat knife and knocked them to ground, I feared for my men that were engaged just outside in the hallway, and called out regularly:

“Captain, hurry it up! We can't hold them off much longer!”

“Are you done with that yet?” I asked the soldier, trying to keep a giant licker at bay with sprays from my assault rifle before downing it with one final burst.

He held up a hard disk in triumph.

“We're good to go. Let's get the hell out of here.”

We booked a hasty retreat back towards the door we came from, running to rejoin the rest of the squad. But as we neared the door, I looked behind us to see the licker that I had believed to be taken out get back up, springing towards us before shooting out its frightening tongue in the direction of the soldier. Out of reflex, I pushed him out of the way, suddenly placing myself along the trajectory of the licker, and within seconds it had my right leg wrapped in its slimy, vice-like grip. I felt a great yank on my thigh, nearly wrenching it out of place, before I fell to the ground and was dragged towards the giant beast.

As I was pulled closer and closer, I used all my strength to try and free myself from its clutches, smashing its putrid, eyeless face with my left foot and riddling it with bullets from my automatic rifle at point blank range all the while. My lieutenant and the tech specialist rushed to try and free me as well, one pulling at my shoulders and the other assisting in trying to bring down the licker with gunfire. But the abomination wasn't giving up so easily. Its tongue wrapped even tighter around my leg, cutting off nearly all circulation, and then planted its talon-like claws in my thigh to inch me closer towards its gaping maw.

At that moment, I heard a shout from behind the door!

“Captain! Come on, Captain! We can't hold of any longer!”

And it was then that I knew that it was down to either me or them.

“Danny!” I yelled to my lieutenant, still trying to keep the creature’s eager jaws at a distance by peppering its grotesque face with my rifle. “Get our men out of here!”

“We're not leaving you here,” he panted, in between attempting blows to the licker’s skull with the butt of his weapon.

That had me absolutely livid. He was not going to pull a Piers on me. I never wanted to see that happen again. Danny had a wife and kids at home. Most of my squad who were fighting for their lives just outside were barely over twenty. Some probably under.

“You listen to me, Danny,” I ground out, my voice trembling slightly as much from rage as from the pressure of the monstrous BOW that still had me pinned l. “Too many people have died already for this data, we can’t run the risk of failing the mission. So take the hard disk, grab the guys, and get the hell out of here. That's an order!”

He hesitated. The other soldier watched for confirmation, ready to follow his lead. I insisted:

“Go! You're all going to die if you stay here!”

And almost as if confirming my point, a long cry of agony was heard from the hallway.

Danny gave me one last salute, standing at attention while trying to maintain a level of composure that escaped him at the moment, his emotions on nearly full display. My other soldier followed suit. Both my hands were occupied with grappling against the licker and firing at with my remaining bullets, so I could only return the salute with a nod.

“Get everyone out of here alive, Lieutenant.”

“I promise you I will, Captain Redfield. You have my word.”

With that they finally exited the room, to my great relief. Soon after the magnetic door slid shut behind them, the cries and the shouting rapidly ceased, another good sign. As did the horrible gurgling of the zombies, which meant they must have chased after my men. But my squad knew how to cover their asses. They'd make it out.

As for me, things were less certain. The licker clung on to my leg like a vulture to its prey. It actually worked to my advantage in the end however, as that meant its tongue and its claws were kept busy. Killing it took hours, at least that's what it felt like. I grappled on the floor against the beast, using all my might to keep out of its jaws, ramming my rifle down its throat to keep it from advancing. And miraculously, by some unknown means, possibly divine intervention, I was able to quickly reload and shove it back in, unloading the full clip down its throat. In the process I was showered by an absolutely vile mix of mutant flesh, brain chunks, and putrid slime, but the licker was finally dead. Extracting my rifle, I let it fall against my chest as I just lay there, beyond exhausted from the exertion.

I had only allowed myself to catch my breath for just a second, but it was already a second too soon. The mutilated licker seemed to stir, trying to right itself, its claws still pressed against my leg. And then suddenly, with an agonizing shriek, its flesh began to melt and ooze, just like with the C-virus back in China, before rapidly crystallizing into an enormous chrysalid. I didn't even have time to react, it was too late. I may have avoided being torn to shreds and eaten by the mutated beast, but I now found myself trapped, rendered partially immobile by the crystalline cocoon encasing my leg with a licker that was nearly four times my size.

Silence fell over the room. The licker was dead, the zombies were gone, threats had been more or less neutralized. I wiped the sweat from my brow, drank a bit of water, ground up a blue herb in case the monster had poisoned me with its claws, and then I set upon trying to destroy that goddamn chrysalid. I tried pounding on it, bashing it with the butt of my rifle, chipping at it with any remotely sharp object within my reach, but to no avail. I even tried firing a few bullets at it, but they just ricocheted off, I nearly ended my life with one of them. The cocoon resisted all I could throw at it, it remained without a scratch.

And so I stopped, taking stock of the situation.

My radio was about two meters away, left sitting on a table, outside of my reach. I was trapped with my back against the floor in a really uncomfortable position, with the large, heavy, half destroyed head of the licker mostly crystallized on top of my chest. I say _mostly_ crystallized because part of it had failed to become encased in the cocoon with the rest of its body; the gaping hole where its mouth used to be was still exposed, dribbling blood and god knows what else on to my vest. Lastly, its claws were still dug into my thigh, underneath the amber-like mass of the cocoon. Though the ooze luckily hadn’t hardened completely around my leg, combined with the weight of the licker, I was unable to either sit up or lie down completely. The least painful position, then, was to lean back, supporting myself on my elbows, facing forward and having to stare into the bloodied maw of the dead monster. In my state of fatigue following the battle against this now-crystallized horror, I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to hold out like this. With a sigh of resignation, I had to face the facts: I wouldn’t be able to get out of here without aid.

I'm not sure why, but in that moment I got to thinking about Piers. In a situation like this, he would never have accepted leaving me here alone. Fortunately, it had been Danny who had been with me on the mission; he was pragmatic and a realist, like every good lieutenant should be. Piers had been great in a lot of ways, but in the end he proved himself unstable. He gave into an act of desperation. I saw him there, for the hundred thousandth time in the last days, crawling towards the syringe as he was bleeding out his life behind him. I knew what he was going to do. Why didn't I yell at him to stop? Was it because Haos had me crushed so tight I couldn't breathe? Because I thought that Piers, with already one arm rendered useless, was already done for? Or was I just too goddamn scared to die?

It was at least one of the three, probably. But what difference did it make now, anyways? What's done is done. No amount of regret, of wishing things had done differently, would change the fact that Piers had infected himself with the C-virus and lost an arm. And as for everything that came after - the lies, the hurt, the… all the mess that happened after the hospital - it seemed like it was a bit late for that, now. I might not have been able to ensure his well-being, but I had tried. I had called Claire each time, hoping that… hoping that things were alright, the last I heard they had celebrated Christmas and New Year's together. And despite everything - the fallout, the flashbacks, the mission - I kind of wished I could have been there. Claire told me they had gotten Piers an ugly sweater, one of those purposely hideous ones that lit up and had a giant reindeer nose sticking out from the chest, and had somehow convinced him to put it on, along with a set of reindeer antlers, for the festivities. I had smiled at that, trying to picture my overly-serious former lieutenant wearing such a gaudy ensemble. It was pointless to think about those things now, though. Piers wasn’t the same man I had known back then - and I couldn't try to look out for him anymore. I'd have to leave that to Claire, and hope that with her help and with his own strength, Piers would be able to heal eventually.

Back when we had been briefed about our mission, it had been clearly agreed upon that once the data had been recovered and the squad was out of the facility, the orders for the zone to be destroyed would be issued as quickly as possible. If Danny held any respect for me, he would stick to the plan.

So I shouldn't need to wait too long, before it was all over. If this was the way for me to go, then I accepted it. I had seen too many people die; it had to be my turn sooner or later. And at least I was lucky. It was almost shameful that I would perish in an explosion. Many of my men had met a much more gruesome end. And maybe for some, theirs was a fate worse than death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **There you go!**   
>  **I dedicate this chapter to all the reviewers who wished horrible suffering upon Chris! I hope you’re happy! XD**   
>  **Originally, this chapter was going to be a lot longer, there was a whole section with Piers’ POV as well. But it was no good, I couldn’t get it to work, and besides it would have made this chapter super long. And since this was supposed to be a transition chapter, I didn’t want it to feel like it was neverending. So, it will have to be in the next chapter.**   
>  **Thank you to all my dear readers! Happy Easter _(Just a little late!)!_ Hope you didn’t gorge yourselves on too much chocolate!**


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